Fitzwilliam and Catherine Darcy
by lausten
Summary: During his first week in Meryton Darcy is responsible for an accident that seriously injures Kitty Bennet and they are forced to marry. With the passage of time, and a good deal of patience and forgiveness, their relationship evolves in a manner that is as unexpected as it is gratifying.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam considered himself to be an insightful judge of men as well as their motives. But the current situation in which he found himself was simply too perplexing for him to comprehend, and his cousin had been as elusive as only Darcy knew how to be when he set his mind to it. The colonel and Georgiana were standing in the entryway of the Bennet's home to attend Darcy's engagement dinner on the evening before he was to be married, and the atmosphere was fairly quivering with undercurrents of the suppressed emotions of the main participants. Richard simply couldn't reconcile what he was seeing and sensing with what his previous expectations had been about this marriage.

He and Georgiana had arrived at Netherfield in the late afternoon from London. He was quite confident what he would find when they arrived that evening at the Bennet estate, and the few words that he and Georgiana had exchanged during the journey confirmed that her sentiments were similar. Just three weeks earlier they had each received a letter from Darcy inviting them to his wedding, informing them that Bingley would be pleased to host them, and giving them directions to Bingley's estate in Meryton. There was not a word about his bride-to-be, no mention of her family, and certainly nothing to indicate that he was among the ranks of proud and hopeful bridegrooms. The invitations had been sent from Longbourn, from whence Darcy had departed immediately for Pemberley, and had remained there ever since, arriving at Netherfield shortly before they did on the day before of his wedding.

They were greeted at Netherfield upon their arrival by Caroline Bingley, Charles Bingley's sister, and one look at her face was sufficient for them to determine precisely what _her _thoughts were concerning the upcoming marriage. Fortunately for them, the weather had been inclement during their journey, which necessitated only the most cursory of greetings before they were obliged to repair to their rooms and prepare for the upcoming dinner. Darcy had preceded them to Longbourn before they had even arrived; consequently, Colonel Fitzwilliam lost a much anticipated opportunity to speak with his cousin concerning the events of the past month.

As eager as the colonel was to question his cousin, he knew that it would be completely unnecessary. He knew what he could expect to find when he and Georgiana entered Longbourn, and his heart sank for his cousin with this certainty. For he knew he would encounter two parents attempting to suppress their triumph at having one of their daughters ensnare such an illustrious husband. There would probably be other siblings too – the sons eager to partake of all the delights that Pemberley had to offer, and the daughters happily conscious of their heightened opportunities for equally prestigious marriages due to their newly forged relationship with Darcy. And the bride - he could picture her as clearly as if she stood in front of him. She would attempt to portray herself as a shy and demure maiden, but the colonel was too wise in the ways of the world to be fooled by whatever charade she would attempt. She would be clinging to Darcy's arm, of course, and probably giggling and tittering at every word he spoke. Darcy had been in Hertfordshire less than two weeks before this engagement was formed, and Richard had no doubt that his cousin had been trapped into a marriage that he would never have formed otherwise. The colonel prided himself on being a gentleman regardless of the circumstances, but he very much feared that his anger and sorrow for a cousin who had been dearer to him than his own brother might tempt him to behave at this Longbourn dinner in a way that all present would regret.

He did indeed behave in a manner that he very much regretted later, but not as a result of what he had anticipated to find, quite the contrary. From the moment he, Bingley and Georgiana had entered Longbourn he was keenly aware that this was definitely _not_ the household of a triumphant family; in fact, the atmosphere was more conducive to a funeral than a wedding. He was greeted by , who welcomed them and explained that Darcy and Miss Catherine were with Mr. Bennet in his library but would join them shortly. There were others to be introduced and once again he was surprised, and then wary. Were these people attempting to portray themselves as other than what they were in order to neutralize his suspicions?

There were four other daughters, and none of them could be described as other than melancholy – several of them with red eyes that could only be attributed to recent tears. Bingley was instantly at the side of the eldest, a girl named Jane who was so lovely that if Catherine resembled her Richard could almost comprehend how Darcy could be lured into a compromising position with her. Jane would probably be considered the most beautiful of the four sisters he was introduced to, but it was the second daughter, Elizabeth, who caught his eye; there was a vitality and _joie de vivre_ emanating from her that despite her present distress intrigued him. He determined in an instant that she was the one who would unravel the mystery about this marriage for him; there was an openness and honesty about her countenance that assured him that even if she did attempt to evade his probing, he would soon get to the bottom of this perplexing matter. The other two daughters, Mary and Lydia, were more obvious in their distress than the two eldest. Even the mother, whom he had considered the most likely to betray at least _some_ indication of the family's satisfaction in contracting such a prestigious alliance, was subdued as she ushered them into the drawing room for some refreshments. One look at Georgiana was sufficient to convince him that she also was astonished by the reception they had received, and her surprise was so acute that, coupled with her habitual shyness, she was able to respond to the polite greetings they received with only the most cursory replies.

They entered the drawing room and the colonel had ample time to study the members of the Bennet family who were present. They were a remarkably handsome family. The mother could not have been more than forty years old, and despite having five children, she was still a very attractive woman. Miss Bennet seemed the daughter to most closely resemble her mother with her fair complexion, blonde hair and light blue eyes. He assumed that Miss Elizabeth Bennet must take after her father in appearance and had dark curly hair and sparkling brown eyes. The other two girls, Mary and Lydia, seemed to possess a combination of the physical attributes of the two eldest - fair skin, pale eyes, and hair that was neither blonde nor the dark shade of Miss Elizabeth's. All four of them were attractive in their own way, and it crossed his mind that if they had entered any of the balls that he had recently attended in London they would have caused quite a stir among the male attendants.

Bingley, friendly and exuberant as always, had been speaking since they entered the room, and this had given the colonel ample opportunity to study the room's inhabitants. There was now a pause in the conversation, and Richard saw that Georgiana would be unable, for the time at least, to contribute anything to the discussion. So, once again when in company with one or both of the reclusive Darcy siblings, he knew that the entire conversational burden would fall to him. He could not, of course, immediately revert to the questions most prevalent in his mind, but cautiously began soliciting from Mrs. Bennet details concerning her family. This was a fortunate choice of topics; she seemed to relax at his enquiries, and her pride in her daughters was obvious. When he began to understand the birth order of the girls, and realized that Darcy's bride was the youngest but one, he was completely taken aback - Good God! - the youngest could not yet be fourteen or fifteen, and the one older than Catherine, Mary, was very young indeed, probably not more than eighteen. He attempted to quickly school his features so that his surprise at Catherine's age was not evident, but he was not quick enough for Miss Elizabeth, whom he could see knew very well what he was about. It had been his experience that one studier of human character could easily recognize another, and he knew intuitively that Miss Elizabeth was just such a one. Bingley at this point began speaking again, and the colonel was free to once again, as he had so many times in the past several weeks, imagine the characteristics of Darcy's bride. She could not be more than sixteen or seventeen at the most, and this made Darcy's choice even more inexplicable to him.

His vision of a pretty young country miss dressed in ruffles, ribbons and lace and clinging possessively to her fiancé's arm vanished the instant the library door opened and Darcy, his soon-to-be father, and Catherine entered the drawing room. While the other girls showed evidence of tears, there was no question that Catherine had been crying recently; her eyes were red and swollen and there were still tears clinging to her eyelashes. And this was no beauty like her older sister Jane; her hair was pulled back in a severe bun and the gown she wore was plain to the point of dowdiness. There were dark circles under her eyes and evidence of recent illness in the drawn paleness of her face. He would later realize that the shock he felt was reflected in his countenance, and when he saw that Darcy's face had assumed his dreaded _Darcy Mask, _as the colonel had jokingly dubbed it years ago, he realized that he had been unable to disguise his surprise. But Colonel Fitzwilliam was a thorough gentleman and the dictates of proper behavior had been ingrained in him from an early age. He introduced Georgiana to Catherine, welcomed her cordially into the family, and hoped his earlier gaffe could be overlooked. It seemed to be, with two notable exceptions – his cousin Darcy and Miss Elizabeth. The expression on her face was unmistakable, and he firmly resolved to find some time in the evening to repair the damage that had obviously been done. She intrigued him, and he was determined that the evening would not end with her thinking ill of him.

As they seated themselves after the introductions the colonel found himself somewhat removed from the rest of the other occupants and seated close to Miss Elizabeth. He immediately realized that he had been handed the perfect opportunity to satisfy his curiosity and commenced a conversation with her in a low voice that was not audible to the others in the room. Since he knew it was futile for him to attempt to disguise the surprise he had felt when he first encountered Darcy's bride, he opened the conversation with a reference to it.

"I must confess that I had not expected to find Darcy's bride so very young," he began.

"Oh, really? I would have imagined that when Mr. Darcy acquainted you with information concerning his engagement, this would have been one of the first things that he mentioned," Elizabeth replied.

"Well, frankly, I have not seen Darcy since receiving the invitation to his wedding, and consequently Georgiana and I were left with the task of imaging not only his bride's characteristics but also the circumstances of this rather unexpected union." He hoped that the frankness he displayed concerning recent events would induce her to be forthcoming concerning details he very much wanted to know, but she simply nodded and seemed to consider the conversation ended. This would not do, and he realized he would need to be more explicit in order to obtain the information he so avidly desired.

"It occurs to me that perhaps, with Hertfordshire being such a distance from London, your family may be unaware of the very great interest that this wedding has created in London. Darcy's hand in marriage has been keenly sought for years by the first families of the realm and curiosity concerning its inception is very great indeed," he said.

"I find that hard to believe, sir. Surely Londoners have more to concern themselves with than the details of a simple wedding in a quiet country town?"

"But surely you must be aware that this is more than 'a simple wedding in a quiet country town'! Darcy is one of the wealthiest men in England and from one of the most respected families. And to consider that he has aligned himself with a country nobody, with no family or connections to recommend her, is simply inexplicable. He could have made any number of very prestigious marriages, and the fact that he has so obviously spurned these opportunities has his family and friends extremely concerned and seriously questioning the motivation behind such an unfortunate alliance."

The colonel realized as soon as these words were out of his mouth that his bluntness constituted a very serious blunder. Elizabeth's face flushed a deep red and all further attempts on his part to draw her into conversation were in vain. She simply ignored him, so he was forced to turn his attention to the other quiet conversations going on around him. Fortunately, they were soon bidden to the dining room for the engagement dinner. This was certainly not the elaborate affair that he had always anticipated would be held by the fortunate family that was soon to welcome Darcy into its midst. He found he was comfortable though, not only with his surroundings but with the members of this family who were united, in a quiet way, in their attempts to put Georgiana and himself at ease. And quiet they were, he could see that everyone at the table was determined to contribute to the sense that this was a happy occasion, but they were all failing miserably. He decided to attempt a response to their kind hospitality and redeem himself in Miss Elizabeth's eyes by doing all he could to make the others feel that both he and Georgiana were welcoming to Darcy's bride and that her inclusion in their family was other than the catastrophe that he feared it undoubtedly was. To further this end he rose to his feet to propose a toast.

"As the best man for my dear friend and cousin Darcy, I would wish you all to join me in a toast to their happiness and long lives together."

Everyone raised their glasses but he knew immediately that something he had said was wrong - very wrong -and there was an expectant pause. No one would meet his eye until finally Bingley looked at him and all but mumbled an apologetic "Thank you, colonel. But I regret to tell you that I have been chosen to be Darcy's best man at the ceremony tomorrow."

The colonel's gaze flew to Darcy's face in astonishment, but Darcy kept his eyes steadfastly on the plate in front of him. That Darcy had overlooked the years of friendship that they had shared to select Bingley for this honour was keenly felt - at first with pain and then with an anger that he very much feared he would be unable to control. A moment's reflection was sufficient to convince him of why Darcy had done this. His first reaction when receiving Darcy's invitation to this wedding had been amazement and he had immediately dispatched a letter to his cousin that was, perhaps, a bit outrageous. In fact, looking back, 'a bit outrageous' was too mild a description for what he had written.

_Matlock House_

_October 12, 18__

_Darcy,_

_Are you completely out of your mind! What in the world has taken place in Hertfordshire to cause such a precipitous event? I assume you were caught out…and how this could have happened after your years of so successfully eluding the determined machinations of young women and their eager mothers is more than I can understand. _

_You must extricate yourself immediately from this situation! It's been my experience that, repellent as it is, money has frequently been used in similar situations to bribe the offended party and her parents and I cannot help but recommend you to at least attempt it. I strongly advise you to choose this route rather than finding yourself bound to someone you can have neither affection nor respect for. _

_Hoping to hear from you soon with news that you have been successful in this endeavor!_

_Your concerned cousin,_

_Richard_

He had anxiously awaited a return letter from his cousin, but there had been only an ominous silence which had caused him to finally accept the fact that Darcy had no intention of ending the engagement.

He had not reflected on how insulting his letter had been until this moment when he was faced with the fact that he was not to have the honour of being the best man at his cousin's nuptials. There was more to the matter than this, though, and the colonel had a sense of foreboding that this insult was a symptom of a more permanent alteration in his relationship with his cousin. He had always taken a quiet pride in the fact that, over the years, he had become the one person that Darcy had trusted enough to confide in. He had carefully nurtured this tendency and had given his support when needed, and, less frequently, his criticism and advice when necessary. It infuriated him that he had been shut out from Darcy's confidence in a matter as momentous as his marriage, and he saw the selection of Bingley as the one to stand up at his cousin's wedding a foreshadowing of future slights and future attempts to keep him at an emotional distance. He struggled to conceal his chagrin from the others at the table, but unfortunately his gaze fell upon Georgiana, seated directly across from him. A quick glance at her face made him even more resentful; she gave him such a sympathetic look that he knew she was fully aware of the insult he had received at the hands of her brother.

Georgiana was indeed incensed by the fact that her brother had chosen his friend Bingley rather than Colonel Fitzwilliam for this honour and this only added to her discomfort at this dinner party. She had such conflicting emotions concerning the impending marriage and she, like the colonel, was completely unprepared for what she had found in the Bennet's home when meeting Darcy's future bride and her family. She had been convinced that this was a forced marriage; she was quite naïve but she had witnessed and heard enough in the years since her brother's majority to know that if this were the case, it would certainly not be the first time that her brother had been the victim of such schemes. She looked at her brother sitting across the table from her and was overcome by memories of his consistent kindness and generosity to her over the years. As she gazed at him she felt her anger over his insult to Colonel Fitzwilliam and her lingering resentment over the events that had taken place several months ago at Ramsgate give way to her habitual feelings of love and respect for a dear brother who, until the previous summer, had been her role model and an object of her sincere devotion.

Hoping to improve her health, Darcy had arranged for her to be taken from school in the early summer and had hired a companion, Mrs. Younge, to escort her to Ramsgate. Georgiana had been plagued by a persistent cough since contracting a cold at school in the winter months and the Darcy family doctor had examined her and recommended sea air and sea bathing. She had been there only several days when she encountered George Wickham who was also there for the healthy benefits of the sea air. Wickham was the son of Pemberley's former estate manager and he had always been particularly kind to her. His attentions were welcomed and she was in his company almost every day. His presence in a town where she had no other acquaintances was a happy event for her and as their intimacy increased so did her regard for him. Never having had much experience with men other than her brother and cousins, she was delighted to renew a relationship with someone whose easy and familiar manners rendered her free from the painful shyness that characterized almost all her other relationships.

When Wickham confessed his affection for her she unashamedly admitted her own for him, and, with Mrs. Younge's approval and encouragement, began to envision an idyllic life in the future with him as her husband. Wickham's fervor was infectious, and he proposed that they elope to Gretna Green together. He confessed that he doubted her affection for him equaled his for her, and, if she refused his request, he would be convinced of it. The assertion of her lover's insecurities regarding her affections was too much for Georgiana's tender heart and she readily agreed to accompany him to Scotland and to be his wife.

When her brother arrived unexpectedly two days before the intended elopement she was totally unprepared for his explosive reaction to her news. He immediately sent an express to her other guardian, Colonel Fitzwilliam, who arrived within hours and whose reaction to the intended elopement was even more volatile than her brother's. Upon the colonel's arrival the gentlemen left immediately to find and confront Wickham and Georgiana was left to imagine what her lover would say and do when faced with her outraged guardians. She hoped he would be able to convince them of their mutual devotion to each other and believed that the worst thing that could happen would be that they would have to postpone their nuptials until a proper church wedding could be arranged. So confident was she in this scenario that she was completely shocked by what occurred when the gentlemen returned. Colonel Fitzwilliam's right hand was bruised and bloodied and there was a liberal amount of spattered blood over the front of his officer's uniform. She was horrified, and even more so when she questioned him and he explained himself.

"We had an inkling that the bounder would attempt to sneak out the back way when we made our appearance, and so when Darcy entered the front of the inn, I was positioned at the rear. As we had expected, he had obviously anticipated our arrival and was racing down the back stairs when I confronted him. He then proceeded to deny everything and asserted that he had been the unwilling object of your persistent advances for the past several weeks. He claimed he had never intended an elopement but had simply gone along with your plans in order to avoid a confrontation with you. At that point, I'm afraid, I totally lost my temper, and he has a broken nose, black eye, and split lip to attest to how much credence I gave his explanation".

Georgiana was stunned by the violence done to Wickham and was convinced that the explanation given by Richard of her lover's words was a complete fabrication. She told him as much, and adamantly asserted that both her brother and cousin were in league against both of them. Darcy, who had been silent until this time, erupted in anger.

"You are a fool, Georgiana; can't you see that all he wanted from you is your dowry? Have you so little experience of the world that you could actually believe this scoundrel to be in love with you? I assure you, no one who was genuinely in love with you would propose an elopement. He was most definitely _not _in love with you, and I would advise you in the future to simply accept the fact that any man showing such a fervent interest in you is simply envisioning your dowry."

Georgiana had never in her life been spoken to in such a manner and her resentment was such that she spoke with an anger that equaled his.

"Are you saying that no man could love me for myself, but only for my dowry? I will _never _forgive you for that, William, for thinking it as well as speaking it, and I will _never_ forgive you for the events of this afternoon!"

With that she turned her back on him and adamantly refused any further attempts on the part of her brother or cousin to converse about the matter. They left Ramsgate soon afterward and she was silent until the carriage approached the outskirts of London. She then requested that Colonel Fitzwilliam escort her to his family home and announced that she had no intention of residing in the same house with her brother. The next day a servant was dispatched to Darcy House to collect her clothing, and Georgiana had remained with her Aunt and Uncle Matlock until the day Richard had arrived to escort her to Darcy's engagement dinner.

Georgiana was ashamed to realize that her first reaction to the news of her brother's surprising engagement was one of satisfaction that the one person who had so violently opposed her union on the grounds that it could not be an alliance of genuine affection had himself become the victim of the very thing that he had sought to prevent for his sister. But as she sat across the table from him at his engagement dinner, she felt all her former anger fade away, replaced by a feeling of tenderness for him and concern for the future of this marriage that, however little she understood about its inception, was obviously not a union that either party desired.

Darcy was aware of her eyes upon him and knew from her expression that her past resentment had been replaced by feelings of empathy and pity. He was not used to being the recipient of such emotions, quite the contrary, and so he was at a complete loss as how to respond to them. He was also painfully aware of the blow that his cousin had received when Bingley announced that he had been chosen as Darcy's best man. He knew what Richard was about this evening; he could immediately see that the colonel was in his 'intelligence gathering mode', a phrase his family had adopted to refer to Richard's penchant for allowing the focus of his military operations to spill over into his private life. Darcy was determined to deny him any success in this endeavor, at least as far as he himself was concerned. Colonel Fitzwilliam was a determined man though, and once he set his sights on attaining certain information he could be relentlessly persistent. Such persistence was an admirable quality in a man whose profession frequently required him to attain information that an informant had no intention of revealing, and the colonel was famous in the higher ranks of the army for being remarkably proficient at it. It was a trait, however, that Darcy was determined that the colonel would _not_ exercise on him. He absolutely refused to let this happen until he himself was reconciled to his new circumstances, and hoped, rather than expected, that Richard would realize this and grant him the time that he needed before there were any confidences between them. He had never intended to grant the status of best man to Bingley, but the steadfast support he had received at Netherfield from his friend during recent difficult times impelled him to make the offer before he fully understood the implications of how the decision would affect his cousin. Darcy also found himself deeply concerned about Catherine. After an absence of several weeks he had arrived at Longbourn that afternoon to discuss the terms of the marriage settlement with his future wife and her father. The settlement that he and his lawyer had prepared was quite liberal in the amount of money which would be available to her as mistress of his estate, and, if anything should happen to him, in the future. He also intended to spend this time with Catherine allaying any fears she might have concerning her introduction to his relatives. He found it difficult to conceal his own apprehension concerning the reception she would receive from his sister and cousin and when she perceived it she began to cry. Both he and Mr. Bennet attempted to reassure her but she was so upset she hardly heard them. When they became aware of the arrival of the guests she made an obvious effort to stem her tears and assure Darcy that she would be well. The relief he felt was palpable; he had spent the last three weeks at Pemberley wrestling with his own doubts concerning their union, and his emotions were still too raw to begin the process all over again with her. Her initial hesitance to accept his marriage proposal only intensified his deep-seated fear that they might be embarking on a venture that they would regret all of their lives. There were no other options open to either of them though, and they both knew it.

When the dinner drew to an end the conversation afterward during the tea and coffee which was served in the drawing room was as strained as it had been previously. The colonel tried once again to engage Miss Elizabeth in conversation, and was once again rebuffed. Georgiana shyly spoke to Catherine about the shawl that was draped over her shoulders and received a confirmation that it was indeed the handiwork of one of Pemberley's tenants. The four guests finally took their leave with a feeling of relief when the evening drew to a close.

Each of the four had his or her own thoughts to contend with and the ride to Netherfield was undertaken in silence. Bingley was uncharacteristically quiet; he had seen the look on the colonel's face when he was appraised of his best man status and was fearful of inciting his anger; the colonel was thinking of the same thing and also reflecting on his attraction to Miss Elizabeth and the hope that the next morning he could undo the damage his hasty words had caused; Georgiana was exhausted from attempting to maintain any semblance of normalcy the entire evening when faced with such overwhelming tension from all the dinner attendants; and Darcy was simply relieved that the evening was over and longed to be alone with his own thoughts. They each retired immediately upon arriving at the estate, much to the dismay of Miss Bingley who had waited up for them in hopes of hearing the details of their evening and thereby being given a chance to once again belittle the inhabitants of Longbourn and whatever arrangements had been made for the engagement dinner.

At around two in the morning Darcy gave up any hope he had entertained for a restful sleep the night before his wedding. He replenished the fire in his room's fireplace, which had been banked for the evening, sat in an armchair in front of it and attempted to once again, as he had during those painful weeks at Pemberley, reconcile himself to this marriage. He was no stranger to unions that were formed between parties who knew little or nothing about the person they were to marry. In his own immediate family he knew of two such instances – his Aunt and Uncle Matlock and his other aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. The Matlock marriage he knew to be a happy one; he had never heard a cross word spoken between them and the deep affection they had for each other was patently obvious. Lady Catherine's marriage was a different matter altogether and there could be no doubt about the unsatisfactory nature of _that_ union. She frequently escaped from Rosings to spend extended periods of time at Pemberley with her sister, Darcy's mother, and the volume of her voice as she catalogued her complaints about her husband could be heard even beyond a closed door and several intervening rooms.

Darcy felt he knew Catherine but little although he had no complaints about the few things he was able to determine concerning her character. It was supremely ironic that she came from a family that he would never even have considered uniting himself with several months ago, and yet it was the members of this family that gave him the most hope that his future wife would embody at least some of her family's characteristics. From the very beginning of his association with the entire Bennet family he had felt himself to be viewed by them as simply a man and his income of ten thousand a year, his house in town and Pemberley were never factors in their assessment of either his worth or his qualifications to marry their sister and daughter. It was a source of considerable satisfaction to him that he had succeeded, without any conscious effort on his part, in gaining the trust and affection of each member of this family.

Catherine, though, was essentially an unknown factor and he had spent very little time in her company. Regardless, he would strive for a Matlock marriage, and _not _a de Bourgh marriage. He had a sinking feeling that _marriage_, as it was commonly perceived, would not be an accurate description of their union for several years. She would be treated by him with the respect due his wife, but he envisioned a relationship similar to the one he had with Georgiana. Not only her young age made this plausible, but also her complete lack of experience in the larger world that was so familiar to him. She had never been more than five miles from Longbourn and undoubtedly had no clue as to the manners and behavior that would be expected of the mistress of Pemberley. His ruminations at this point became so depressing that it was with a sense of relief that Darcy became aware of the gradual lightening of the room that indicated the dawn of the day of his wedding.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The weather on his wedding day was as lovely as any Darcy had encountered in Hertfordshire. That it was warm and sunny was of material assistance in his attempt to put aside the morose thoughts that had plagued him throughout the night and he was able to greet the inhabitants of Netherfield with at least the appearance of equanimity. He was able to maintain the same calm demeanor throughout the brief wedding ceremony and the wedding breakfast that followed it. In mid-afternoon he and Catherine bid goodbye to their nearest relations and found themselves bound for London and his townhouse there. Catherine had found it very difficult to part from her family and was unable to stem the flow of tears for a good many miles. Darcy watched her with growing concern and uncertainty, assuming her sorrow had less to do with the life she was leaving behind than with apprehension concerning the life she was now facing. He finally felt he could no longer remain silent when faced with such distress.

"Catherine, it pains me to see you so overwrought. Is there anything I can do or say to give you some relief?"

"No, but I thank you for your concern. I fear I am put out to sea in a very small boat with no oar and no chart."

"Yes, that may be so. But it should be a comfort to you to know that you are not the only one in this small boat. Remember that there are two of us who find ourselves adrift in uncharted waters."

She seemed comforted by his words and was soon fast asleep. He fell asleep also, and both travelers in the carriage were unaware of the progression of their journey until several hours later when they found themselves at Darcy's London townhouse. When they entered the foyer they were met by over twenty of Darcy's retainers who were gathered to greet their new mistress. The housekeeper, Mrs. Downton, welcomed them both and then went on to introduce the staff and list his or her responsibilities. Darcy stood back a bit for the introductions and could not fail to note the incredulous looks on the faces of those being introduced. His staff took their positions seriously and had been trained by Mrs. Downton to perform their functions with a minimum of personal reactions, regardless of the situation. They were attempting to do so now, but there was no mistaking the fact that the woman they were facing was definitely _not _the type of woman they had expected. Darcy turned to look at Catherine, and his first involuntary reaction was a remembrance from long ago when Georgiana was quite young and would delight in dressing up in the gowns that she had found in the attic which had belonged to previous generations of Darcy women. He hadn't realized that while sleeping in the carriage her bonnet had fallen off and her waist length hair was now a tangle of golden curls framing her face and falling halfway down her back. Her wedding dress was in a similar state of disarray and her cheeks were still flushed from sleeping. She looked young, even younger than she actually was, and he could certainly understand the surprise on the faces of his staff. She looked younger than Georgiana; in fact, looking at her now he found it hard to believe that she was sixteen years old. She looked very pretty though, and she greeted all she met with a kindness and poise that assured them all that her age was certainly not a factor in her ladylike deportment. The tension in the foyer gradually receded, and as the Darcys went up to their rooms to bathe and rest after their journey they would have been gratified to hear what was being said in the large kitchen below stairs that also served as a common gathering place for the servants.

"Well, I must say I have never been so surprised in my life!"

"For myself, I'm beyond relieved; I was so dreading meeting another Miss Bingley and having to put up with her airs and pretentions."

"She's pretty enough though….and certainly doesn't seem the type to be a demanding mistress."

"How in the world did this come about? I must confess she is not what I would have expected when the master finally married after all these years of being chased by every miss in London between fifteen and twenty five."

"And the marriage was such a hasty affair…there is something very strange about this whole matter."

"Well, that is neither here nor there….we have met her and can put all our fears to rest. She seems a sweet young thing, and for my part I will find it no great trouble to do her bidding."

This last statement seemed to be the general consensus of all those in the sitting room and Mrs. Downton felt the conversation had gone on long enough and put an end to it. Preparations were then commenced for supper for the newly married pair, and Darcy's servants went about their duties with much lighter hearts than they had had before the introductions in the foyer. Kitty's maid, Sarah, was also breathing a sigh of relief. She was only a few years older than Kitty herself and she had been carefully trained by Mrs. Downton. However, this was her first assignment as a personal maid and she keenly felt the weight of her responsibilities. Hers was the position in the household to be envied above all others, and after spending just a few moments with Kitty her relief was palpable. She helped her new mistress bathe, washed her hair and helped her dry it in front of the fireplace, and then arranged it with curls falling down her back. Her wedding day is the one day that a bride could wear her hair down without fear of reproach, and when Darcy arrived to escort her to the dining room he was pleased to see that his wife looked quite attractive and quite at ease in a home as grand as his London establishment. They spoke little during the meal and then Darcy escorted her to the door of her room, kissed her briefly on the cheek, and bid her goodnight.

When Kitty realized that she would not see him again until the morning she had mixed feelings of relief and mortification. She had been fully versed by her mother on what to expect on her wedding night, and no new wife likes to feel that she is not desired by her husband, regardless of the circumstances of their marriage. However, her feelings of rejection were mixed with equally strong feelings of relief. Her familiarity with a man's anatomy was limited to surreptitious glances at an illustrated book of art in her father's study which portrayed Michelangelo's David, and her mother's explanation of what would happen on her wedding night filled her with apprehension. She felt that her mother's depiction of what would take place was physically an impossibility and also that Darcy was simply incapable of behaving in such an undignified manner. So she went to bed on this night with conflicting emotions, embarrassment that she was not an object of desire to her new husband and a strong sense of reprieve from this mysterious aspect of marriage.

Kitty had always been an anomaly in her family; her father had once referred to her as a chameleon and this depiction was as accurate as his summations usually were. Kitty was perhaps the most impressionable of the five sisters and had a depth of perception into the motivations of those around her that would have astonished her family members. While the others were quite open in discussing their reactions to the people around them and the events taking place, Kitty was not. She had found long ago that being the fourth in a family of five daughters relegated her to an ambiguous status and had years since resigned herself to the position of listener rather than active participant. Kitty and Mary were the two daughters who felt most acutely the absence of any affection or approval from their parents. Jane and Elizabeth were their father's favorites and Lydia had long been the one that their mother doted on. Kitty had simply given up trying to win their approval and was content to foster her relationship with her four sisters. She and Mary were essentially ignored by their parents, except when their father exercised his biting wit in mocking them, or when their mother compared them unfavorably to their other sisters. As sensitive as Kitty was, years of this type of treatment had inured her to the pain that she had originally felt at being the object of their disdain, and she realized that there was nothing that she could do that would change matters. She loved her family very much, focused on their virtues rather than their faults, and was generally quite content with her lot in life.

Kitty's propensity to see the best in others, expect very little for herself, and face each day with an attitude of contentment was to stand her in good stead in the early days of her marriage. She had come to this union with no clear expectations of her role in it or what Darcy's contribution would be, and found that she was left to her own devices concerning her daily activities. Her husband she saw only at meals, when he was unfailingly polite and expressed a willingness to do all he could for her comfort. Mrs. Downton gave her a tour of the principal rooms of her new home and familiarized her with all that was required of her as its mistress. These duties were minimal and could be accomplished quickly and with very little effort on her part.

But Kitty was not one for idleness, and soon returned to those activities which had engaged her time when she had lived at Longbourn. The Bennet sisters had for several years been active contributors to the comfort of the children who resided in an orphanage in the town nearest to Meryton. At least once every month the girls spent a full day in Longbourn's kitchens preparing food that they delivered the next day and much of their needlework involved sewing attire for the children who lived there.

During one of their visits to the orphanage Kitty became concerned with the starkness of the sleeping arrangements. The children slept at least six to a bed on bare boards and had very few threadbare blankets. Kitty immediately set about remedying this situation. She wanted to provide two things – a soft surface for the children to sleep on and more substantial blankets to keep out the worst of the cold. The solution that she arrived at after many attempts was very well received. Fabric remnants were sewn together to make small pillows that were stuffed with chicken feathers or duck and goose down. She then proceeded to sew the pillows together to the exact measurements of the beds in the orphanage – five feet long by seven feet wide. When she had constructed two such pillow quilts to these measurements she sewed them together at the sides and bottom. The finished product was a warm pocket of soft down for the children to slip into at bedtime. Her Aunt Gardiner had been visiting one time and saw her ingenious solution to hard boards and scanty blankets and had requested her to make some for an orphanage in London where she was a patron. Kitty had brought an entire portmanteau of fabric scraps with her from Longbourn and began sewing them together, working at the task at least four hours each day. She enjoyed the work, and knowing how desperately the finished product was needed added to her satisfaction in performing this task.

Kitty was also impressed by the resources available in the library of her new home and quickly availed herself of the opportunity to read more concerning her favorite subject. She had previously read every book concerning this topic that her father's library had to offer and was now delighted by the opportunity to continue her reading with such an abundant source of new material. She was fascinated by history, particularly British history, and at present was reading everything she could concerning the notorious Tutors – particularly Henry VII, Mary and Elizabeth.

By the second week of her marriage Kitty found herself growing bored with indoor activity and determined to see what London had to offer. She was surprised that Darcy had never offered to take her for a walk in the nearby park and was too intimidated by him to ask him to do so. Her maid's half day was on a Wednesday and she generally walked to her family's nearby home to spend that time with them. Kitty saw this as an ideal opportunity to accompany Sarah at least part of the way and from then on spend time exploring the surrounding areas. She requested a map of London from Mrs. Downton, familiarized herself with the environs around Darcy House, and felt quite confident that she could easily find her way back again. So the two girls set off just after one o'clock on a Wednesday afternoon and when they parted ways Kitty enjoyed herself immensely with all that she saw in the busy metropolis of London. She was so engrossed that she not only forgot about the time, but also failed to regulate her steps to the planned areas that she had decided upon when viewing the map of London. As a result, she found herself hopelessly lost, and when the early twilight of the fall month descended she began to be seriously concerned. Her first impulse was to do what she would have done in Meryton - request assistance from those passing by. But everyone she saw seemed to be in a dreadful hurry and she found that she simply couldn't attempt it for fear of being rebuffed. She finally entered a small haberdashery, explained the address she was seeking, and listened with dismay to the fact that it was a long way distant from her present location. She had no money with her and so hiring a hackney coach was not an option. She asked the shopkeeper to explain the route she would need to take in order to return home, listened carefully, and set out once again. It was full dark when she finally returned home and she was met at the door by an anxious doorman and a frantic Mrs. Downton.

When she hadn't appeared for tea there was concern because no one in the house had been informed that she was leaving. When Sarah returned from her half day and explained what she and Kitty had done the concern became a barely controlled panic. Darcy was beyond furious and informed a sobbing Sarah that she was to pack her belongings and depart for her family's home at first light. He then ordered every man in the household to saddle all available horses in the mews that belonged to him or that they could borrow from neighbours, and each set off in different directions to search for their mistress. Mrs. Downton was instructed to light the outside lanterns of the house if Catherine returned while they were searching, and each man was instructed to return every half hour to see if the lights were lit.

They were gone approximately an hour when Kitty returned home and Mrs. Downton immediately lit the two outside lanterns to inform the men of her safe return.

When Darcy returned Kitty was fully expecting him to be quite put out by her excursion and by the efforts he and his men had expended attempting to recover her. She was unprepared, however, for the reaction she encountered from a man she had considered up to this point to have a very tight control on his emotions. Darcy was absolutely livid, and she found herself fascinated by the mottled colour of his face, going from a deep red to a deeper purple, and the vein on the side of his neck which seemed to pulse at each angry word he spoke. She knew now that what she had done was unwise, but found herself rashly attempting to defend herself and thus made the situation even more volatile. She accused him of keeping her a virtual prison in his home since their wedding two weeks earlier and pointed out that while _he _had not hesitated to venture out to his club, his fencing lessons, or his favorite bookstore, _she_ had been essentially ignored by him. She asserted that she was amazed that he even knew she was gone and that the only time he even acknowledged her existence was at mealtimes.

The justice of her accusations served to augment Darcy's anger even further and he finally left the room, slamming the door quite forcefully as he left to further emphasize his displeasure. Both were too angry to dine together that evening, ate what they could in their rooms, and maintained a frigid silence for the next several days. This silence was only broken once. When Catherine discovered that Darcy had dismissed her maid she went to his study to plead with him. She could see that he was still angry, but she also knew that at heart Darcy was a kind man, and that her happiness in this union was important to him. So Kitty, who had little experience with men but knew intuitively what all women since Eve have known, finally resorted to attempting to make him feel guilty.

"Every day since we were married you have asked me if there was anything you could do that would please me. I have never once asked you for anything. This is something that I want very much, and I'm asking you to give proof to your assertion that you wish to promote my happiness and allow me retain my maid."

She saw that her words had finally penetrated the indifferent façade he had maintained since her entrance in his study, and in the afternoon a very thankful and tearful Sarah returned to Kitty's room once more.

The morning following their confrontation Darcy had a footman deliver to her room an invitation he had received from his Aunt Matlock and the Earl to attend the opera with them and Georgiana and the colonel two evening hence and afterward to return to their home for a light supper. Kitty panicked; she had absolutely nothing even remotely suitable to wear and knew that the gowns women wore to the opera were even more formal than those worn to the fanciest dress balls. She then recalled that there was a section of her closet that contained formal gowns that she assumed must have been worn by Darcy's mother at one time, and she and Sarah began to sort through them hoping to find one that would be appropriate for her to wear. She found one that was particularly lovely, distinctively trimmed with a dark blue ribbon and sewn with small seed pearls along the hem, neckline, and sleeves. The style was hopelessly outdated though, drawn in at the waist and with an enormous hooped skirt, so she and Sarah spent hours completely redesigning it while still retaining the unique pearl-decorated blue ribbon that made it so unusual. The completed gown had a high waist that was gathered just under her breasts and fell in graceful vertical folds to her feet. On the evening of the opera Sarah pulled her long hair to the top of her head, secured most of it in a bun, but allowed enough of her natural curls to escape to grace the top, sides and back of her head. As Kitty gazed at her reflection in the mirror she knew she had never been this attractive, felt her trepidation at meeting the Earl and Lady Matlock recede, and was confident that even Darcy would be pleased.

She knew that Georgina and the colonel were to escort them to the opera in the Matlock carriage, and she heard them arrive. She entered the drawing room to greet them and her husband with a bright smile and a light heart and was completely taken aback when Darcy slowly rose to his feet and confronted her.

"How dare you! Where did you obtain that gown?"

"I found it in my closet and felt it would be appropriate for the opera with a few minor alterations. I don't understand why you are so upset. What could possibly be wrong with this gown?"

"Did it ever even occur to you to mention to any of the staff what you were about and show them what you were doing? I assure you, madam, that any of them would have been rightfully horrified and would very soon have advised you concerning exactly what is _wrong _with that gown! Go up to your room immediately and find something else to wear!"

Kitty was so shocked by his reaction that she just stood there staring at him until Georgiana grabbed her arm and quickly escorted her to her room to help her change. Both girls were crying at this point – Kitty quite humiliated and unable to comprehend what she had done to warrant such a reaction, and Georgiana from having witnessed her brother speak to his wife in such a cruel manner. When she saw the contents of Catherine's closet she had a clearer understanding of why Kitty had resorted to remaking one of her mother's gowns; there was nothing there that was even remotely suitable for an evening at the opera. This made her even more upset with her brother; he had married a simple country girl and he should have been aware that one of the first things to be done when they arrived in London was to furnish her with a wardrobe in keeping with her new position. From Kitty's room they went to Georgiana's; she had taken most of her gowns to her aunt's house when she had moved there several months earlier but they found a gown and cloak that would suffice and quickly dressed her.

While Kitty was dressing Georgiana explained her brother's reaction. The gown that Kitty had altered had been worn by Mrs. Darcy when she had been presented at court to the Queen and she had also worn it for her formal portrait that presently had place of honour in the principal drawing room at Pemberley. It had been displayed for many years in the Darcy's London townhouse and would instantly have been recognized by many attending the opera this evening. This brought on more tears for both girls – Kitty for having so poorly misjudged what she had hoped would be an evening of reconciliation with her husband, and Georgiana for simply watching her pain and understanding how this had come about. The girls had proceeded as quickly as they could but it was obvious that they were going to be dreadfully late for the meeting with Darcy's aunt and uncle which was to have taken place in the lobby of the theatre well before curtain time. When they reentered the drawing room they interrupted a heated exchange between the two cousins and it was apparent that the men were very angry with each other. The ride to the opera was conducted in complete silence, and when they at last entered the lobby it was almost completely empty and the Earl and Lady Matlock were clearly displeased with their tardiness.

Kitty's introduction to the Earl and his Countess was a hasty one and they entered the Earl's box just as the curtain was rising. Had he been able to witness the preoccupation of this group, the composer would have been disappointed at the lack of interest displayed by the six occupants of this particular theatre box; each of them had their own private thoughts, and most of them were unpleasant.

The Earl was undoubtedly the one least troubled by unhappy reflections. He had a tendency to take a broad view of situations he encountered and his only perception of the events of the evening was that his guests were late to the point of rudeness. He didn't look beyond that and certainly spent no time reflecting on what could have caused this tardiness. He was an esteemed member of Parliament, and the very characteristics which made him immune to the underlying currents whirling around him that evening were a major factor in his rise to leadership in the Tory party. He was able to reduce the most complex of situations to a simple equation, wrestle with it quite effectively, and propose a solution that invariably was implemented by his peers. It was not that he was unaware of the nuances that pervaded most situations; he simply chose to focus on what he could alter and left the more subtle details to his wife. Many an evening he and Lady Matlock returned home from what he had assumed was an uneventful social event to find that he had missed some very telling undercurrents that put an entirely different slant on conversations and relationships. If his son Richard was also present even more details would immerge, and he would sometimes find himself wondering with amusement if they had attended the same gathering, and how he could have missed such fascinating interchanges.

His wife at this moment was deep in thought. Her son had already apprised her of what he had discovered in Hertfordshire concerning Darcy's bride, and, consequently, she had abandoned her initial suspicion that this was a forced marriage by an avaricious young woman and her family. She still maintained her suspicions however, as did the colonel, that this was definitely _not _a union that either party desired, and the events of this evening seemed to support this. Catherine looked absolutely miserable and was obviously holding back tears; Darcy looked furious about something and had not even assisted his wife into the Opera Hall – it was the colonel who entered with Georgiana on one arm and Catherine on the other. It was her son who performed the introductions and not Darcy, who should have been the one to present his wife. And she could see immediately that her son and nephew were at odds with each other. Lady Matlock also recognized the gown that Catherine was wearing; in fact, she had been with Georgiana for the fitting and selection of the fabric and pattern for it. The Countess was seated in the middle of the front three seats that were allotted to the ladies in the box, and although Catherine was sitting absolutely still Lady Matlock could see that both of her hands were trembling as she clasp them in her lap. Something was very wrong here, very wrong indeed.

The colonel's emotions were focused on only one thing – Darcy's treatment of his wife and how unconscionable it was. There could be no excuse for treating a lady in such a manner, particularly one's wife, and certainly _never _when others were present. All of his chivalric impulses, which were considerable, were aroused and he had let his cousin know in no uncertain terms exactly how he felt about his behavior. Darcy's reaction was to turn all the anger that he had expressed toward Kitty on his cousin, and he asserted quite emphatically that his interference was both officious and unwelcome.

Georgiana's feeling were a poignant combination of shock and empathy for Kitty. Having been on the receiving end of Darcy's anger as recently as the previous summer, she knew how devastating that could be. Her disillusionment at her brother was acute, and she very much feared the future of a marriage where one partner could display such cruelty to his spouse, particularly in the presence of others.

Darcy's feelings were more complex than those of the other occupants of the theatre box. He was livid with his cousin and resented his interference, especially the harsh words he had spoken concerning Darcy's responsibilities to his wife. If the women had not reentered the drawing room when they did he and Richard would probably have come to blows – a method of resolving conflict between them that they had not employed since they were boys. His anger at his cousin did not abate, but he was soon overcome by thoughts of his wife and an overwhelming feeling of regret for his hasty outburst. Darcy had spent a lifetime controlling his emotions and believed that for the most part he had succeeded in presenting an inscrutable demeanor to his acquaintances. The only challenge to his iron control was a volatile temper, which more than once had induced him to say and do things that he later regretted. And he was very much regretting his treatment of Catherine this evening. Not only was his reaction completely unforgivable given the fact that her only intention had been to please him, but he could easily see that his words had had a devastating effect on her. He had no doubt that his aunt had noted his wife's distress and he dreaded going down to the main atrium for refreshments during the intermission. He knew curiosity was rife concerning his bride, and a pale young woman, obviously unhappy and recently in tears, would feed the London gossips for weeks to come. Going to his aunt's house for supper after the opera, as they had planned, was simply out of the question. But how to withdraw without offending his relations? It was altogether an untenable situation, and it was all his own fault.

Kitty, meanwhile, was desperately attempting to regain control of herself. This was her first public outing since her wedding and she knew that many assessing eyes would be upon her. In fact that realization had been her primary motivation for redesigning the dress she had prepared for this evening's outing. She knew it was too late to establish herself with any credibility as a happy bride to Lady Matlock and struggled to get herself under control enough to face the numerous people that she would inevitably be introduced to this evening. Kitty had suffered for years as the victim of her parents' mockery or indifference, and had discovered an effective method of masking her pain and displaying a serene countenance. She employed this method now and her rich imagination soon enabled her to attain some semblance of normalcy. She focused on the tears that threatened to fall and imagined them falling, in a slow and steady cadence, _behind _her eyes rather than down her cheeks. And so she wept with inner tears that were unobserved by others, gradually becoming aware of the relief that tears can bring to one who is troubled, but with the assurance that others only perceived her outward calm. She sat there envisioning the tears make their way internally from her eyes to her cheeks, to her throat, to her chest, and lastly pooling around her heart in silent testimony to her pain. She had all the benefits that a good cry could bring but none of the notice from others that she was determined to avoid at all cost. Her time-tested method was successful and when the intermission arrived she was confident that she could maintain her composure with very little effort.

Darcy had also expended considerable effort focusing on the importance of presenting to the world the image of a contented couple and managed to elbow his cousin, with an amount of force that seemed quite unnecessary, out of the way so that he himself could escort his wife to the theatre lobby. As expected, they were immediately surrounded by numerous people anxious to meet his new bride and Darcy made the introductions as a matter of course. He was more than pleased with Catherine; he really hadn't known what to expect of her behavior after the earlier fiasco at his townhouse, but she greeted everyone she was introduced to with a calmness that he could not but admire, knowing as he did what an effort it must cost her. They were confronted with only one situation that had the potential of unraveling all the outward calm he and his wife had managed to maintain, and which ironically became a source of amusement to both of them in the years to come. He saw the Hursts and Caroline Bingley approach and there was a purposeful look in the latter's eyes that he knew from experience boded no good.

"Kitty, my _dear_ friend, how delightful to see you again after our time in Hertfordshire! And how nice you look - although if I'm not mistaken I have previously seen that gown on Miss Darcy. I imagine this is your very first attendance at a theatre - I believe I was informed that you have never had the pleasure of visiting London – not even to visit your aunt and uncle who reside somewhere in _Cheapside_."

At this she made a cursory bow to the Matlocks with a snide expression on her face – erroneously assuming that they were Kitty's relations. The theatre lights had already been dimmed when the Matlock party made their late entrance and she had not noticed that they were seated in the Earl's private box. Colonel Fitzwilliam had in the past witnessed Miss Bingley's biting wit for those she considered beneath her, and had a difficult time concealing his amusement when he informed her of the identity of the two people she had insulted.

"Excuse me, Miss Bingley, but are you referring to my parents, the Earl and Countess Matlock?"

No words could adequately describe the expression on Miss Bingley's face as she realized her error, and for the first time she became aware of the icy expressions reflected on the faces of those whom she had denigrated in an effort to humiliate the new Mrs. Darcy. She hastily attempted to back herself away from them, bumped into Mr. Hurst who was immediately behind her, and almost succeeded in propelling both of them to the floor of the theatre lobby. Even those who had not overheard her words witnessed this scene and her embarrassment was acute as she saw the knowing smiles on their faces. It was no secret to many in this theatre crowd what her ambitions toward Darcy had been for several years and that made the encounter even more humourous to many of them.

When the Matlock party returned to their box to watch the remainder of the opera Darcy drew his aunt aside.

"Aunt, I am very sorry but I think it would be best if Catherine and I returned home after the opera and did not join you for supper. I know this is incredibly rude of me, but I feel it is necessary. I hope you will understand."

"Darcy, from what I have observed this evening I also think that is advisable. I am not offended, not in the least, and hope that perhaps later this week we will have the pleasure of your company." She reached out and rested her hand affectionately on his arm. "You know how dear you are to me, every bit as dear as my own sons, and I wish only the best for you."

At the conclusion of the performance the Earl, his wife, Georgiana and the colonel departed in one carriage, and Darcy and Kitty in another. Darcy knew he needed to say somethingto his wife concerning his earlier behavior but he didn't know where to begin. Catherine maintained a determined silence and focused on looking out the carriage window into the darkened night. Darcy watched her with growing apprehension and he was unable to interpret what her stillness meant. At one point they passed a lit street lamp and by its feeble light he could see the shimmer of tears on her face.

"Catherine, please say that you can forgive me. I am very sorry."

He could barely detect her nod in the dark carriage, and she was either unable, or unwilling, to speak to him. They returned home and she went immediately to her room. Neither of them slept that night – Darcy with the firm conviction that his impulsive words had destroyed whatever chance they had for a meaningful relationship, and Kitty with the same conviction and envisioning years of the studied avoidance she had received from her husband since their marriage and being subjected to intermittent outbursts of his temper such has she had witnessed twice in the past three days.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The next morning Kitty took her breakfast alone. She had no idea where Darcy was, and at this point, much preferred his absence to his presence. She had just begun sewing in her private sitting room when she was surprised by a servant's announcement that Lady Matlock and Georgiana had come to call.

She scarcely had time to be nervous when they entered and she found herself the recipient of a more than cordial greeting from both of them. The reason for their call was soon explained; Lady Matlock had been advised by Georgiana that Catherine had not yet had an opportunity to supplement her Meryton wardrobe with current London fashions and they were both determined to accompany her to do so. Georgiana in particular was quite insistent and assured Kitty that there was no pastime she and her aunt enjoyed more than shopping. They were just about to leave the sitting room when a servant entered with Miss Bingley's card and her request that Mrs. Darcy receive her. Kitty hesitated, unsure of what to do, but Lady Matlock took the decision out of her hands. "Tell her that Mrs. Darcy is not receiving." All three of the ladies were aware of the fact that the Matlock carriage, with a coat of arms clearly displayed on both its door, was presently awaiting them directly in front of Darcy's home. And although not a word was spoken, they each had the satisfaction of knowing that Miss Bingley would also be aware of this carriage, and would know that, for _some _guests, Mrs. Darcy was indeed receiving.

Darcy emerged from his study just as they were about to depart and his reaction on hearing of their destination was one of obvious pleasure. He saw that Catherine was observing him warily and hastened to assure her that he very much approved of this outing.

"Catherine, I want you to purchase everything that you need or want. Georgiana has accounts in my name in many London establishments and I want you to also procure them in as many shops as you desire." Here he turned to his aunt and Georgiana and with mock seriousness continued. "My uncle and I both know that you two are a force to be reckoned with once you set off on one of your shopping pilgrimages. Today I want you to let your collective fancies run free and purchase whatever my wife needs, or whatever catches her eye and you think would please her."

Georgiana and Lady Matlock thought this was excellent advice and the three spent a very agreeable day doing exactly as Darcy had advised. By the time they decided to pause for lunch the carriage was so crowded with parcels that the coachman was instructed to drive to Darcy House, deliver them, and then return to meet them again at a private ladies' club that Lady Matlock frequented when she found herself in the heart of London. There were several of her friends dining there also, and she had no hesitation in introducing Catherine to them. The morning hours that she had spent with Darcy's wife were more than sufficient to convince her that her new niece, despite her country upbringing, would not bring shame on the Darcy name. She resolved early on to allow Georgiana to take the lead and to determine the intimacy, or lack thereof, of their interaction with Catherine. She was delighted to see that before long that the girls were on a first name basis and were comfortably chatting like old acquaintances. Colonel Fitzwilliam's acuity in sketching the characters of those he observed had been inherited from his mother, who at the present moment was reflecting with considerable satisfaction on all that she had observed that morning. There was only one incident in the course of the morning that had upset all involved and she knew intuitively that it was somehow related to her nephew's unexpected marriage. She and Georgiana were present in the dressing room when Catherine, clad only in a thin chemise, was to be measured for her gowns. Madame LaFleur, who owned the establishment, had just began her endeavors when, quite unexpectedly, she exclaimed "Mon dieu! Qu'est-ce qu'on a ici?" It was then that the Countess and Georgiana saw what had prompted the Madame's outburst; there was a bright red scar that ran from Catherine's left shoulder to the top of her breast. It was obvious that the injury was of recent origin; in fact, it gave every indication of still being painful. Madame LaFleur was horrified by her thoughtless comment and quickly attempted to cover her gaffe by speaking hurriedly of all the different necklines which they could select that would essentially hide this imperfection. It took Kitty a moment to recover, but she did and within minutes was behaving as if nothing had ever happened. Lady Matlock observed this with interest as it served to confirm what she had witnessed the previous evening. When Kitty had been introduced to them at the opera there was no disguising the fact that she was in a state of great emotional turmoil. And yet, by the time intermission came, there was not a person she was introduced to who was aware that anything was amiss. In one so young such composure was an unusual trait, and a trait, unfortunately, which might prove essential in the weeks and months ahead for Darcy's young bride. Darcy had never been a very active participant in the social whirl of the London season, but with Georgiana's debut coming soon he knew much would be expected of him for his sister to have a successful coming out. The reception that his new wife received would be crucial for Georgiana's future and from what Lady Matlock had observed so far she was quite confident that Catherine would be asset rather than a liability for both of the Darcy siblings.

The afternoon proved to be as fruitful as the morning and by teatime Kitty was well supplied with what she considered to be enough clothing to sustain her for a lifetime. The ladies went to the Matlock home for a late tea and as they entered the family sitting room to greet the Earl they found him comfortably seated in his favorite armchair reading The London Times. His chair was facing the fire and away from the door, and when he was greeted by his wife he assumed that she had returned home alone from the shopping excursion.

"Well hello, my dear. I trust you have managed to successfully outfit our newly acquired country mouse so that she will no longer have to resort to wearing Georgiana's cast-off clothing."

Silence was his only response to this comment, and when he turned in his chair to face the door he was confronted by a very angry wife, an indignant niece, and a clearly embarrassed 'country mouse.' The girls left the room immediately to go Georgiana's room, where Kitty set about assuring Georgiana that although surprised, she was not in the least offended by her uncle's comments.

"Now truly, Georgie, you must allow that he is perfectly correct in referring to me as a 'country mouse'; I certainly regard myself as one and I must appear even more so to a man with his acquaintances and lifestyle. And we really cannot take offence that he spoke such words; we both know that he never would have uttered them if he had known that I was present."

"How calm you are about this Kitty! I wish I had your forbearance. My uncle can say such cutting things that I must confess myself to be afraid of him sometimes." Here she paused and was unable to suppress a giggle and a knowing look. "We needn't fear that he will be unaware of his rudeness for long though; I would be much surprised if my aunt at this very moment isn't making him regret most sincerely that he ever opened his mouth."

Georgiana was correct in this assumption. Lady Matlock very rarely criticized her husband; there was seldom any need to. Gentlemanly conduct had been ingrained in him from childhood and without conscious effort he interacted with all he met with impeccable courtesy. It was because his wife's displeasure was such an unusual occurrence the Earl had early on in his marriage learned to give his full attention to her words and adjust his behavior accordingly. In this case, however, her admonitions were not necessary as he was fully aware of the thoughtlessness of his comment. He had been adamantly opposed to this marriage, and if Darcy had seen fit to obey his summons and come to London, he would have done everything in his power to prevent it. But once the marriage was consecrated his pragmatic mind took over and he resolved, that publicly at least, he would support his nephew and give every indication of family solidarity to the world at large. His interaction with Kitty had been minimal the previous night at the opera, but he was deeply concerned by the conversation he and his wife had with Richard and Georgiana when they returned home for supper. The events that resulted in the four of them being late to attend the opera were fully explained and Darcy's behavior to his wife was a shocking revelation to both the Earl and his Lady. The colonel had also been informed by his valet of Darcy's explosive reaction to Kitty's becoming lost in London two days earlier and he related all he knew concerning that incident. Even more serious, several of the servants at Matlock House were related to the ones at Darcy's home, and the news of the confrontations between the two newlyweds, loud enough to be overheard, had spread among those below stairs.

"We both know that servants' chatter about this marriage is just one step away from becoming widespread gossip at all levels of society. I have spent the day with our new niece and I must confess that I was most pleasantly surprised. You too would approve of her if you could overlook her 'country mouse' status," and here she paused to give him an accusatory look, "and listen to what she has to say with an open mind. I've decided to invite her to stay for supper and will send a note to Darcy requesting his presence also. I hope you will use this opportunity to attempt to repair the damage you have done with your hasty words and converse with her."

The Earl, properly chastened and resolved to put things right with his wife as well as his new niece, made a concerted effort in the course of the evening to do just that. He had expected to confront some resentment on Catherine's part as a result of his insulting words and was gratified to find that there was none. Before long he found himself in wholehearted agreement with his wife in her approval of Darcy's wife. He may not have had the insight into people that his wife did but he had attended enough social events to know the general behavior of ladies her age. It seemed to him that there was always an aura of falseness about them – the assumed shy demeanors frequently countered by blatant flirtations, and the simpering and giggling that he found so disgusting. Fortunately, Georgiana had never behaved in such a manner, and he found Catherine equally free of the affectation that seemed to be the hallmark of London's young women.

Darcy had been reluctant to attend this evening's supper but knew he had no recourse after his abrupt withdrawal the previous evening. He also knew that the colonel and Georgiana most assuredly had acquainted his aunt and uncle with details of his behavior prior to their departure for the opera. There was no man he respected more than the Earl, and no woman who had ever come as close to replacing his own dear mother as his aunt. He dreaded their disapproval, and facing Richard again after their angry confrontation was also a major factor in his trepidation as he arrived at Matlock House.

However, the evening turned out to be more pleasant than he ever could imagined, and although he was called upon but seldom to participate in the conversations, he could see that both the Earl and his aunt were making a concerted effort to familiarize themselves with his wife and that they wholeheartedly approved of what they were finding. Indeed, he himself had conversed so little with her that he found himself amazed at some of her opinions and comments. He was further gratified when his aunt announced that she would be giving a dinner party the following week to introduce Catherine to her acquaintances. It was altogether an enjoyable evening devoid of tension beyond an occasion glare from his cousin, who obviously had not forgiven him. Darcy simply ignored him, which only served to irritate the colonel further. Darcy really didn't care; he would deal with his cousin later, and the important thing to him at this point was if his wife hadforgiven him.

When they arrived home, despite the late hour, Darcy took her hand and led her to their sitting room.

"Catherine, I want to once again let you know how very sorry I am for my behavior last night, and it occurred to me that I also need to beg your forgiveness for my outburst after you were lost in London. I imagine you think me quite the brute and I want to assure you that this is not the case, and that such reprehensible behavior will not be repeated."

"You are forgiven, Mr. Darcy. I am making the same request of you; please forgive me for all that I have done to displease you these last several days."

"My forgiveness is readily given, although it is not as necessary in your case as in mine. It is not only these events that I regret. You have reproached me for being an indifferent husband and I must acknowledge that your reproof is justified. I cannot undo the past but I hope my behavior from this time forward will never warrant such an accusation from you again."

Kitty didn't reply but just smiled at him, and he returned her smile with one of his own that was unquestionably the most genuine he had ever bestowed upon her.

"I was surprised this evening to learn of your interest in British history. There are two locations quite nearby that might be of interest to you – the infamous Tower of London and Westminster Abbey. Would you like to accompany me in the next several days to these places?"

Kitty made no attempt to disguise her delight at the prospect of the suggested excursions and accepted his offer with enthusiasm. And so Kitty and Darcy made their way to their respective rooms that evening with lighter hearts than they ever would have thought possible just twenty-four hours earlier. Darcy, in particular, felt as though a great weight had been lifted from his chest. Kitty had every right to resent the behavior which she had been subjected to, not only in the last several days but ever since their wedding, and he was surprised to witness how readily she forgave him. He knew enough of women to suspect there were not many wives who would surrender so easily after such harsh treatment by their husbands and fully recognized that tears and bitter recriminations were more than warranted. He had also requested that in the future she call him William and he could see that this pleased her. His full name was Fitzwilliam, his mother's maiden name, and only his parents and Georgiana had ever called him William. Catherine agreed, with a smile, and he realized with chagrin that she had been waiting for him to do this for quite some time.

The following morning Georgiana arrived early and she and Kitty went to her room to once again view all the articles of apparel that they had purchased the previous day. Georgiana also wanted to discover if anything had been overlooked. She and her aunt had already discussed this possibility and realized that they had neglected to order a riding habit for her; many areas of Pemberley were only accessible on horseback and Georgiana was very much looking forward to visiting them with her new friend. Kitty, however, had her doubts.

"Georgiana, I have never even ridden a horse…do you really think this is necessary?"

"All the more reason to obtain a riding outfit! You will be much more likely to enjoy your riding lessons if you are fetchingly attired – well, at least I certainly would. We had so much fun shopping together yesterday, Kitty, and this will give us an excuse to venture out again." She could see that her friend was still reluctant, and had a pretty good idea as to the reason. "You do realize, don't you, that my brother was sincere when he encouraged us yesterday to buy anything you needed or wanted? Kitty, I assure you we could shop to the point of exhaustion and it would scarcely put a dent in his resources."

"Well, I did assume that he is wealthier than my father – what with having Pemberley as well as this house in town."

Georgiana viewed her friend with poorly concealed amazement. For years London matrons and their daughters had spent a great deal of effort estimating Darcy's affluence down to the last farthing. The fact that Kitty had no idea of his wealth, and didn't seem particularly interested in knowing details of it, could not but please her, and raised her estimation of her friend's worth even more.

"Kitty, my brother owns two other estates, one in Yorkshire and one in Devonshire. He also is part owner of a fleet of ships and sole owner of a weaving facility here in London that processes the wool from Pemberley's sheep. The two of us can have the pleasure, nay, the _obligation, _of helping him dispose of all that wealth without any feelings of guilt."

And so, with Kitty's concerns about inciting her husband's displeasure by their continued expenditures done away with, the girls decided to revisit Madame LaFleur's establishment, ordered the Matlock carriage be brought round again, and were just descending the main staircase when they were confronted by Darcy and he gazed on them with a look of feigned severity. Kitty, who was reassured by Georgiana's information and the fact that she was beginning to appreciate her husband's wry sense of humour, could only smile as he admonished them.

"Oh, no, you ladies have that feverish look which can only mean one thing; you are determined to go shopping again and bankrupt me. There is only one solution that I can see. I will have to accompany you this morning to, hopefully, stave off any further excesses and protect my own interests."

This statement was met with laughter, and the three set out with the happy anticipation of spending the day in each other's company. The shopping expedition turned out to be more enjoyable for Darcy than he had anticipated and he was pleased to see that Catherine's taste in clothing mirrored his own - rich fabrics, simple lines, and minimal adornment. Georgiana already knew that velvet would be the logical choice, and Madame LaFleur had previously taken Kitty's measurements. A simple dark blue velvet gown with a matching beret was quickly decided upon and the girls were prepared to depart when Darcy requested that Madame LaFleur show them lighter fabrics so that an additional riding habit could be prepared for the warmer months. All three women were delighted to comply and before long Kitty had not one, but two, lovely riding outfits on order.

Darcy then suggested that they pay a visit to his favorite bookstore. Georgiana headed for the section that contained the latest novels and Catherine went immediately to the section containing history books. Darcy remained nearby, occasionally selecting a book and looking through it, while carefully noting the ones that took the fancy of his wife. When they prepared to leave his sister had two books that she had selected, but Kitty had none. She was surprised to see that Darcy had an entire armload of books and even more surprised when she saw that they were all books in which she had shown an interest. The beaming smile that she favored him with did much to dispel his guilt over his earlier treatment of her, and for the first time in their relationship he was struck by how very attractive his wife was. Catherine was aware of the sudden intensity of his look, and felt, rather than knew, the reason for it. She blushed a vivid red and was unable to look away from the obvious admiration that she saw in her husband's eyes. She had never before seen that expression when he had looked at her and he was making no attempt to hide it. It took a polite cough from the proprietor, and a not-so-polite nudge in the ribs from Georgiana, to recall Darcy to his surrounding, collect the packages containing their books, and exit the establishment.

The rest of the week preceding Lady Matlock's dinner party was a busy one for Kitty. Georgiana visited almost every day, frequently accompanied by her aunt, who insisted that Catherine call her 'Aunt Matlock" as Georgiana did. Darcy escorted her to both the Tower of London and Westminster Abbey, where her knowledge of the events, dates, and royal personages represented by these areas greatly surprised him. Her memory for even the most trivial details amazed him and he began to realize that his decision to know her better was well worth the effort. He gradually became aware of the fact that although his wife was standing right beside him, her perception of what they were viewing was very different from his. Never was this clearer to him then one afternoon when they were standing on the banks of the River Thames after visiting the Tower of London. He was fascinated by the view of London this location afforded them and was focusing on the magnificent panorama before them - St. Paul's Cathedral, Tower Bridge, and an impressive display of all types of ships as they travelled to the sea on the outgoing tide. Then Kitty said "Look" and pointed to something in the water that was also following the receding tide and was close to the bank of the river where they were standing. Darcy recognized what it was at once; he and Edmund and Richard had spent many hours when they were children constructing similar objects. It was a sailing boat made of carefully folded paper and its mast was a twig with a leaf woven through it so it would sail. On the side of the boat was the name of the ship that had obviously been written by a child's hand.

"Catherine, how in the world did you notice this? We are standing here side by side and yet I never would have seen it."

"I don't know really, but sometimes things are obvious to me that for some reason others seem to miss. My sisters always teased me about it and so I stopped pointing out things to them that I noticed. But I thought that perhaps you would not censor me for this; I thought that perhaps you would understand."

They continued walking along the river and Darcy's only response was to gently squeeze the hand that was resting on his arm. He _did_ understand what she meant, and it was not the first time that he saw the unique perspective his wife had of her surroundings. In the coming weeks as their intimacy grew he would see more examples of this and he came to realize how much it enriched his own perceptions when he began to view their world through her eyes.

During a number of the excursions that they made in London they met with several of Darcy's acquaintances and there was no recourse but to introduce his wife to them. Kitty met everyone that she was introduced to with a sweetness and propriety that could not but gratify him and he could easily see the approval on the faces of his acquaintances. One introduction in particular was illuminating, and it did much to alleviate any concerns he might have felt for Catherine's future acceptance in society. Two of the people who approached them he was reluctant to encounter, and when they drew near Kitty could feel the tension in his arm where she rested her hand. Darcy had attended Cambridge with Lord Alltop and they had always been on friendly terms there, but it was the sister who accompanied him who was the cause for concern. She had been one of his most persistent admirers, and, leading a very privileged life, had seldom been denied anything that she desired. She had been convinced of her eventual success to become the Mistress of Pemberley and had even persuaded her brother to use his friendship with Darcy to aid her in her endeavors. He soon found himself under siege; the invitations to suppers, teas, balls, etc. came in a veritable deluge.

When Darcy was finally forced to make his indifference known, to both the brother and sister, he was first met with incredulity and then resentment. The last time he had encountered them was at a ball where he was given the cut direct, and so it was with trepidation that he viewed their approach. However, the reception that he and Catherine received became the first of a long series of determined cordiality displayed by the women who considered themselves spurned by him and who were more than curious to view the woman who had succeeded where they had not. They were aware that although _they _had been unsuccessful in attaining their goal, there were undoubtedly many advantages to maintaining a friendly relationship with both of the Darcys. It was a superficial and self-serving motivation for any relationship, and both Darcy and Kitty saw it for what it was, but it was a vast improvement over the behavior of the Miss Bingleys of the world, and they responded with every bit of cordiality that they could muster.

During one of Lady Matlock's visits she indicated that her son Richard had recommended that Kitty's two eldest sisters be invited to her dinner party. He also mentioned Mr. Bingley's courtship of Miss Bennet and his own favorable impression of Miss Elizabeth and suggested that he and Bingley serve as escorts for the sisters that evening. This was Lady Matlock's first indication of a partiality on the part of her son for the second Bennet daughter and she could easily see the motivation for his recommendation. She readily agreed to her son's proposal and Richard departed to speak with Bingley regarding the arrangements. That afternoon Lady Matlock dispatched three invitations, two to the Bennet sisters at Longbourn which also included a note regarding their escorts, and one to Mr. Bingley, who was currently in London consulting with his attorney regarding his tenancy at Netherfield.

The invitation sent to Mr. Bingley was addressed to 'Mr. Charles Bingley and Guest' and Miss Bingley went into an excited dither when she saw that its wax seal was the coat of arms of the Matlock family. She immediately assumed herself to be the intended 'Guest' and had no scruples lighting the nearest candle, melting the wax seal, and perusing its contents. When she saw what it was she was positively ecstatic, for she had heard of this exclusive dinner party to introduce the new Mrs. Darcy to society, indeed, who in London had not? She was unable to conceal her sense of exuberant triumph and pictured herself at this affair being courted by the upper echelons of London society. The Bingley carriage was ordered, her sister Mrs. Hurst was collected from the Hurst residence, and the two sisters spent the better part of the day selecting an ensemble for the affair that both were convinced would render all the women attendants envious, and all the men attendants speechless with admiration. When Bingley heard of her plans he was quite adamant about the fact that she was _not_ the 'Guest' referred to in the Matlock invitation, but that Jane Bennet was. His sister insisted that he was wrong, for what did her brother know about dealing with the higher levels of society? The invitation referring to a guest came to _their _home, and therefore she must be the person referred to. Several times in the week leading up to the party he urged her to reconsider, but she would not be dissuaded.

The morning before the dinner party when Catherine and Darcy were breakfasting Kitty indicated that she would like to spend the morning making a call and asked him if he would mind if she took one of the Darcy carriages. She gave him a slight smile and commented that she would prefer to walk but that she had a pretty good intimation as to how _that_ suggestion would be received. He laughed and wanted to know who she would be visiting.

"My Aunt Gardiner in Cheapside. It really is quite remiss on my part to have been here in London almost a month and to have neglected to pay her a call."

Darcy was unable to disguise his reluctance to permit her to do this but was caught so off guard by her request that he could not put his disapproval in words. Kitty saw his hesitation, but eager to see her aunt again, dismissed it from her mind. He left the room to order a carriage brought round for her and escorted her to it. She stopped a few feet away from the door a footman was holding open for her when she observed that this particular carriage was quite different from the other Darcy carriages she had ridden in. "William, how many carriages do you own?"

Darcy immediately saw where this conversation was going and the intelligence that he was formerly so pleased to discover in his bride became a source of irritation. "Quite a few, I'm not sure of the number, some are here and some are at Pemberley."

"How many are here in London?"

"Three."

"And how many of those three do not have the Darcy crest on the doors?"

"One." Darcy was well aware that the two footmen and the coachman were within hearing distance and could see by Kitty's face that she was not satisfied with this answer. He took her arm in a determined manner and seated her in the coach. "This is not the time to discuss this, Catherine. If you wish, when you return we will have ample time to explore this further."

Kitty was confident that she knew precisely why he did not want a carriage bearing the Darcy coat of arms to be seen in Cheapside but let it go for the time being. Her aunt and uncle were very dear to her, and she felt that when she made him aware of their importance to her he would readily accede to her wishes.

Her aunt was delighted to see her and they spent a very happy morning together. Lady Matlock and Georgiana had been kind to her, and she could see that in the future their presence in her life would be of utmost important, but her aunt and uncle represented the past as well as the future to her, and she found a strange comfort in knowing that they were aware of who she was before she became a Darcy. She missed her family very much and it eased her loneliness to speak of those she loved in Meryton and to recall pleasant memories. Her uncle was away at his warehouse during her call, and wanting to see him as well as her aunt, she invited them both to supper that evening at Darcy House. She reasoned that Darcy's objections concerning having a carriage of his observed in Cheapside would quickly be overcome once he realized what delightful people the Gardiners were. She could not have interpreted his feelings more inaccurately.

She returned just in time for lunch and was happily relating the details of her morning when she mentioned that she had invited the Gardiners to dine with them that evening.

"What? You have invited a couple to dine with us without consulting me?"

"Why yes, I have. I'm sure that when you know them you will very much approve of them."

"Did it ever occur to you that perhaps your husband should have a say as to who should dine here? I wonder that you could even contemplate inviting someone to this house without consulting my preferences first."

"And this is your opinion – that husbands and wives should consult one another before considering invitations? How many invitations have we received since arriving in London? Did you ever, even once, consult with _me _about _my _preferences as to whether they should be accepted or declined? Why should my behavior concerning this be any difference from yours?"

This reply exasperated Darcy even further, and he did not hesitate to explain to Kitty exactly _why_ such behavior was reprehensible. She was a Darcy now, and should make every attempt to disguise the fact that she was essentially an unsophisticated country miss who didn't know the first thing about navigating the treacherous waters of London society. Darcys most definitely _did not_ associate with tradesmen. If she insisted, despite his disapproval, on visiting them at their home in Cheapside he would allow it, but he would never agree to visit them himself. She was absolutely forbidden to invite anyone to Darcy House without consulting him first and he very much regretted the fact that it was too late to rescind the invitation for this evening. Apparently she had no notion of the sphere which she had been elevated to by her marriage to him, and she would do well in the future to consider it before acting in a way that would bring shame to both of them.

Darcy had been pacing back and forth in the dining room as he made this speech to his wife, and if he had any doubts that his meaning was fully understood one look at Catherine's face convinced him otherwise. She rose stiffly from her chair and her face was a frozen mask as she passed him to seek the door. He could hear her footsteps in the hall; she had bypassed their sitting room and so he knew she was ascending the stairs to her room. All the better, he thought, let her spend some time reflecting on his words and hopefully there would not soon be another incident such as the one this morning. He had no regrets whatsoever; his values and opinions concerning the separation of classes were so firmly ingrained that he never even considered altering them. And if Catherine had any previous misconceptions concerning her responsibilities as his wife, he was confident that he had impressed upon her quite emphatically what he would and would not tolerate from her in the future.

Darcy went to his study and began to scribble notes on his correspondence for his secretary to deal with later. He found he was having difficultly concentrating on the task at hand and when he heard his aunt's voice in the hall he was more than willing to give up the attempt. He hoped she would be content with his company and not request to see Catherine, whom he suspected was in no condition for visiting with anyone. She greeted him affectionately, declined tea, and was insistent that she needed to consult with his wife regarding the dinner party that was to take place the next evening. As his aunt ascended the stairs to Kitty's room Darcy returned to his study with a feeling of dread. He wasn't sure how much his wife would reveal to his aunt about their confrontation, but he did know that too little time had elapsed since his angry words in the dining room for her to have fully regained her composure. His consternation was such that he even considered going to his club to escape the house and whatever his aunt's reaction would be after her meeting with Catherine. He was unable to concentrate on any of the work piled high on his desk and began to pace the length of his study until his aunt finally made her appearance, and he cringed when he saw the expression on her face. This was going to be unpleasant for him, more than unpleasant.

She seated herself and requested that he take the chair directly opposite. When she finally spoke her voice was deceptively calm.

"I would like you to explain to me exactly what took place this afternoon between you and your wife."

"I must respectfully decline, aunt. I have no intention of discussing what should only be between the two of us."

"You _most definitely _willtell me, Darcy, and I will not be leaving this room until you do!"

"What has my wife told you?"

"Absolutely nothing. She was so distraught that she could hardly speak. The few things she was able to tell me convinced me that she must have misunderstood you, as I think I know you well enough to be certain that you would never speak to her in such a reprehensible manner."

Darcy saw there was nothing else to do but to relate his conversation with his wife and did so with every conviction that his aunt would be forced to agree with him. He had never encountered a tradesman dining at the Matlock home and was quite confident that he never would. Her sympathy might be aroused by Catherine's distress, but he knew that both his aunt and his uncle had views similar to his own concerning the importance of maintaining a proper distinction between the social classes. He felt it would be a degradation to dine with such people and was appalled by his wife's naiveté in thinking that it would be acceptable. He admitted that he was, perhaps, a bit forceful in presenting his views to her, but he found it increasingly frustrating to deal with his wife's blindness concerning issues that were so vitally important to her new position as his wife.

Lady Matlock maintained her silence for many minutes, and when she did speak her quiet voice was more chilling than if she had shouted at him. "You have explained yourself quite clearly, Darcy, and I now see that Kitty was correct in her understanding of your meaning. You will be pleased to know, I am sure, that you are not alone in these opinions; your uncle and I received a long letter from Lady Catherine expressing remarkably similar views. She feels, as you obviously do, that your wife is undeserving of the great honour that you have bestowed on her, that she has brought absolutely nothing to this marriage, that she is not suited to be the Mistress of Pemberley, and that you have an obligation to impress these facts upon her at every opportunity. And I'm confident that your aunt would be pleased with your attempts to ensure that your wife is fully aware of your own superiority to her relatives, and that due to her elevation as a Darcy she should now shun them as you obviously intend to do. However, I knew your parents quite well, as I'm sure you know, and I can assure you that if they were alive to witness your behavior they would be appalled. You contend that your motivation is to protect both Catherine and yourself from censure by the _ton_, but I can absolutely guarantee you that nothing will feed derision as quickly as the perception that you are ashamed of your own wife."

She left him then, without even bidding him goodbye, and she would have felt a deep sense of satisfaction if she had known the devastating impact her words had on her nephew. He seated himself at his desk, buried his head in his hands, and gave way to his overwhelming depression with a bout of self pity that was unprecedented in his entire life.

He roused himself when he heard the hall clock strike the hour of five. He wasn't sure what time Catherine expected her aunt and uncle but most dinner guests arrived between 6 o'clock and the half hour. His valet had everything prepared for his bath, shave, and a change of clothing appropriate for formal dining, and he was soon prepared to receive company. He heard no activity coming from his wife's room and assumed she was already in their sitting room downstairs awaiting him. However, she was not there, and after waiting fifteen minutes for her, he gradually began to face the unpleasant possibility that she would not, or could not, attend this evening's supper with her relatives. He would have to do this alone, make his apologies to her aunt and uncle for her absence and explain that she was not well, and it would be up to him to carry off the evening in a fairly credible manner. He would do his best, and regardless of how personally distasteful he found the prospect, would do all he could to behave in a gentlemanly fashion. He waited and waited for his guests for what seemed to him an eternity, and finally decided he had no recourse but to speak with his wife.

He found her in her sitting room on a sofa in front of the fire. Once again he was faced with evidence of her uncanny ability to recover quickly from an unpleasant situation; she was sitting absolutely still, and her red eyes were the only indication he saw of her inner turmoil. When he joined her on the sofa he saw with apprehension that whatever sorrow she had earlier felt she had suppressed, and whatever anger his words had engendered she had overcome.

"Catherine, what arrangements did you make with your aunt and uncle for this evening? They still have not arrived and I can see that you are not prepared to receive them."

"I wrote to them and withdrew the invitation. They will not be coming."

He was obviously uncomfortable with this information. "How did you phrase your letter? If you told them the truth, I imagine they have a very poor opinion of me at this time."

"It was very brief; I told them as little as I could without lying. I said that I regretted not consulting with you before issuing the invitation and had found upon returning home that you did not want to entertain visitors this evening."

"Oh, I see. Catherine, I have reconsidered some of the things I said to you earlier and I was prepared to meet them with every expectation of continuing our relationship with them. I have had time to reflect on the fact that they are your only acquaintances in London, and as such, are to be afforded every courtesy from me."

Kitty made no response to this and he realized with a sinking heart that she had withdrawn from him; she was obviously determined to not give him another opportunity to hurt her. He could certainly understand her reasoning for this, given his behavior to her not just on this day but since their arrival in London. He reached for her hand and held it in his own as he began speaking again.

"My aunt was under the impression that you feel I am ashamed of you." Her involuntary start was all the evidence he needed to know that his aunt was correct. "I have behaved badly to you, very badly indeed, but that has _never _even crossed my mind. In fact the opposite is true; as I begin to become acquainted with the characteristics of your nature and have seen your interaction with others, I am more and more pleased. The problem these past weeks has been me, Catherine, not you. I am accustomed to a well-ordered and predictable life and the unexpected upheaval of the last few months has caused me to behave in a manner that I never would have otherwise." Fitzwilliam Darcy was unaccustomed to baring his soul to anyone but felt he must continue if she was to fully understand the circumstances behind his erratic behavior. "I think you should know that this upheaval did not begin with our marriage but rather last summer. Did Georgiana ever explain to you why she is residing with the Matlocks rather than with me?"

"No. But when we were changing my gown the night of the opera she said some things about you that shocked me at the time, but I assumed this was a result of what you had said to me that evening."

"You are incorrect in that assumption, Catherine; my sister saw this as a continuation of what my conduct had been to her in the summer when I visited her at Ramsgate. I behaved so badly then that for the first time in our lives, even though I am her legal guardian, she refused to live under the same roof with me. I think you can imagine my feelings about this, and my deep regret that she felt such a step was necessary."

They were both silent after this confession; both were staring at the fire and deep in thought. Darcy still retained her hand in his and became aware of a gentle pressure as she wrapped her fingers more securely around his. He turned to face her and was relieved to see that the wall he had perceived earlier was gone, replaced by an expression of compassion and forgiveness. He felt a tenderness for her that he could not remember ever feeling for anyone else in his life, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world when he leaned toward her and gently kissed her. She started when she felt the touch of his lips on hers and he realized that not only was this _their_ first kiss, but it was probably the first kiss she had ever received. It seemed unaccountably important to him to know if this was true, and learned with pleasure when he questioned her that this was indeed the case. When they dined together that evening neither of them spoke much. It was a companionable silence though; they both had many things to consider concerning what had happened on that day and how it would impact their future together.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

In the late afternoon of the following day Kitty was commandeered by both her own maid and a maid of Lady Matlock's who had been sent with the express purpose of dressing her hair for that evening.

She was bathed, shampooed and her hair was swept up to the crown of her head, pinned, and left to fall naturally in golden curls that framed her face. Mrs. Downton then joined them to complete Catherine's toilette and was a bit disappointed when she first beheld the gown that her mistress had selected to wear. It was simplicity itself – a cream-coloured unadorned silk with a high waist gathered just under Kitty's breasts, a modest neckline, and long sleeves. When she looked more closely, though, she found that this apparent severity was relieved by flowers skillfully embroidered in shades of pink and cream along the neckline, waist, hem and sleeves. It was not at all what Mrs. Downton had expected the new Mrs. Darcy to wear to a party held with the express purpose of introducing her to London society, but she found herself quite happy to change her initial opinion when Kitty was dressed and prepared to descend the stairs to meet her husband. The starkness of her apparel served to make her youth and beauty even more apparent, and she looked absolutely stunning.

If Kitty had any doubts about how Darcy would view her appearance they were quickly dispelled when she descended the staircase to where he was awaiting her in the foyer.

"Catherine, you look absolutely beautiful!"

"Hmmm…you needn't sound so surprised."

This was greeted with the laughter it deserved and they entered the carriage and departed for Matlock House in cheerful spirits. Darcy knew that he and his wife would be the focus of attention at this party, but knowing her now as he did, he had no trepidation concerning her ability to charm all she met. They were greeted at Matlock House with sincere affection by his aunt and uncle and Georgiana. He was relieved to see that his aunt seemed to have forgiven him for their recent heated exchange in his study and there was no hesitation in her manner of welcoming him. He never underestimated her acumen, and Catherine was so evidently happy this evening that his aunt must see he had done all he could to atone for his behavior to his wife the previous day.

The Matlock's oldest son, Viscount Edmund, and his wife, Lady Marianne, were present and were introduced to Catherine. The Viscount had the same open countenance as his brother the colonel and greeted her with every indication of pleasure. His wife, Marianne, was even more enthusiastic, but Kitty was too attuned to unspoken undercurrents to not feel a certain tension from the Earl and his wife, and also from Darcy. His countenance did not alter from its customary politeness but he was unable to control the way his forearm stiffened where she held it. The Viscount seemed completely unaware of the tension fairly crackling in the air around them and gazed on his wife with evident pride. The seven of them spoke of inconsequential things for a while until the first guests began to arrive and then they moved to the door of the principal drawing room to receive them and introduce Catherine. It was obvious that Lady Matlock did not want her son and his wife to be part of this reception – she made her preference quite clear, but Marianne refused to acknowledge it. She would not be denied the opportunity to make obvious to all who attended that, as the future Lady Matlock, she had every right to both anticipate that honour and to help preside over the evening's entertainment.

Darcy was pleased when he saw the guests that his aunt had invited; they were all acquaintances that she and the Earl had known for many years or friends of Darcy's that he had maintained a close relationship with. He could not help noting that all of these friends were married and that their wives greeted Catherine as one of their own. There would be no hostility to his wife from this group – no false congeniality and certainly no efforts to extract from either of them the details of their hasty wedding. His aunt had chosen wisely, and he found himself relaxing even more when he saw how Kitty was handling each introduction. She had a smile for everyone and responded to overtures of a continued relationship, particularly from the wives of his friends, with a sincerity that could not be doubted.

Most of the guests had arrived and been introduced when the colonel and Mr. Bingley arrived with their party. Catherine was so delighted to see her sisters that it took her a moment to realize that Miss Bingley was also one of this group. Darcy was as surprised as his wife to see her there; why had Lady Matlock included _her _on the guest list? She had not, of course, but the Countess was so busy being introduced to, and cordially welcoming, Kitty's sisters that she had not yet noticed Miss Bingley's presence. She had noticed, however, that when her son Richard entered he had a wide smile on his face and a definite look of mischief in his eyes. He was very well aware of the reception that Miss Bingley would receive from his mother, and when she had entered their carriage with Bingley his first impulse had been to quickly inform her that there had been some mistake and have Bingley escort her right back to her door. Other thoughts soon intruded and so he did not mention it, for he was remembering her conduct at the opera, and he knew his mother would also. It did not take Lady Matlock long to react as he was confident that she would.

"Miss Bingley, I am surprised to see you here this evening. Is there a reason that you have accompanied my invited guests to my home?"

"Your invitation…that is…it did mention my brother should bring a guest…I was sure….I mean…..

…..I thought…a guest could only be his sister."

Lady Matlock saw the expression on Charles Bingley's face; it was a combination of anger and embarrassment. His embarrassment she could readily understand, but if he was angry it could only mean that he had attempted to dissuade his sister from attending and had been rebuffed in his attempts.

"Did your brother attempt to explain to you that the guest indicated would be Miss Bennet?"

She didn't dare lie – not with her brother there to refute it. "Well yes, he did…but Charles is so unaware of social protocol ….I felt he couldn't understand….that I would be welcomed…that I was the guest you referred to…."

"May I suggest, Miss Bingley, that _you, _and not your brother, are the one unfamiliar with social protocol. In the future you might be wise to listen more carefully to your brother's advice and not attempt to intrude where you are not welcome."

By this point in their discussion other guests had arrived, and, even if they wanted to (which they most certainly did not), there was no option but to overhear Lady Matlock's words. Caroline Bingley had never been so embarrassed in her life and wanted to sink through the floor and hide herself. Her humiliation was complete when Lady Matlock called over one of the footmen, and in a voice perhaps a bit louder than necessary, instructed him to immediately order one of the Matlock carriages and to escort Miss Bingley to her home. The reactions of those associated with Miss Bingley were typical; the Earl could not recall ever seeing Miss Bingley in his life and was completely baffled by what had occurred; Darcy and Kitty had to struggle to keep expressions of smug satisfaction from their faces; Bingley felt a sense of triumph at having, for once in his life, bested his sister; Jane felt only pity for her; and Elizabeth and the colonel shared a smile of heartfelt gratification that justice had been meted out at last to one who so richly deserved it.

Soon all the guests had been welcomed and the reception party entered the drawing room. It was an impressive size and easily accommodated the fifty guests that Lady Matlock had invited to the dinner. Catherine entered on Darcy's arm and they were immediately surrounded by those eager to become acquainted with his bride. Lady Matlock joined her own friends but positioned herself so that Darcy and Kitty were always in her line of vision. After a while she could see that both were quite relaxed and that whatever conversations they were having were agreeable to them. She was particularly observant of her nephew, knowing as she did that he was uncomfortable in social situations. As he and his wife were greeted and conversed with others she could visibly see the tension in his body abate and it was not long before his smile, which to her had seemed somewhat forced when they first entered the room, became genuine. Kitty, of course, was the one addressed by most who spoke to them, and although Lady Matlock could not hear her words, she could see the sweetness of her smile and the positive reaction of those she spoke to. Even Darcy, usually so circumspect when in the company of others, let his guard down at one point and the expression on his face as he looked at his wife was one of obvious admiration.

One of Lady Matlock's intentions during the evening was to spend time conversing with Jane and Elizabeth. When she did, she was pleased to discover that the things she found most to her liking in her new niece seemed to be a family trait. Her son had described the entire family as 'unpretentious' and conversing with Catherine's sisters convinced her that this assessment was an accurate one. There was a directness and lack of affectation in their manners that could not but please. She was also wanting to observe Elizabeth's interaction with Richard and was torn between approval of her behavior and concern for her son. _His _preference was obvious for all to see, and the lady was unfailingly polite to him, but it was equally obvious that she neither encouraged his attentions nor returned his regard. When he had given his accounting to his parents regarding all that he had observed during Darcy's wedding he had not mentioned his insulting words to Elizabeth concerning his opinion that Darcy had failed to procure a bride that he considered worthy of his cousin. Had his mother been aware of this she would have interpreted Elizabeth's aloofness quite differently. The colonel was certainly remembering it and doing all he could to atone for his blunder. He had never met a woman who fascinated him as much as Elizabeth and he made no attempt to hide his regard for her. As the son of an Earl who had a reputation for being unfailingly charming to the ladies he was surprised to find one woman who seemed to be impervious to his marked attentions and this served to make him even more determined to win her approval.

Another reason that Lady Matlock sought out this group was that she had earlier seen her daughter-in-law conversing with them. It was not long into their conversation that she detected indignant expressions on the faces of her son and Elizabeth, embarrassment on the face of Bingley, and a deep blush and hurt on the face of Jane. Lady Marianne continued speaking as if nothing untoward had happened, but the smile on her face as she turned from them to converse with others convinced Lady Matlock that something unpleasant had occurred, and that it involved Kitty's oldest sister. When she reached the group she could not but notice that Miss Bennet had moved slightly away from her escort and that she was attempting to school her features into at least a semblance of composure. After conversing with the group for quite a while she asked them to excuse her son for just a few moments as she had something to discuss with him regarding seating arrangements for their supper. They found a quiet alcove where they could speak in private; he knew very well what his mother wanted to know and he angrily related what his brother's wife had said.

"That witch…..smiling all the while she told Bingley that she was delighted to see him again and to observe that he was continuing his affinity to attend all his social events with a lovely young lady on his arm. Still smiling widely, she remarked that while all these young ladies that he singled out were attractive, this evening he had surpassed himself and that his latest _conquest_ – and she took pains to emphasize that word – was an improvement on all the others. And of course through all this my stupid brother was listening to her, grinning, and thinking how nice his wife was to offer such a charming compliment. I'd like to wring her neck. I'm quite sure that this evening will not end without her attempting to humiliate Mrs. Darcy, but I had hoped her respect for you would deter her from being her usual obnoxious self to others at your party."

After listening to her son Lady Matlock also had visions of wrapping her hands tightly around her daughter-in-law's neck. The Viscountess was the daughter of a Duke and as such felt her behavior was accountable to no one. She dealt with any situation where she perceived herself to be at a disadvantage with verbal affronts that were always given with wide and disarming smiles and invariably followed by a compliment. Her comments this evening were typical in every way – praise for Bingley for his penchant for lovely women and praise for Jane for being the loveliest of them all. Richard and his mother were in agreement that Marianne would not let the evening pass without some attempt to humiliate Kitty, and she was dismayed when she observed Edmund and his wife join Darcy and Catherine as they were conversing with their friends. Everything seemed to be fine until she noticed Darcy stiffen and a deep flush appeared on Kitty's face that was evident to her even from her location more than 20 feet away from them. The others in the group looked embarrassed and were attempting to smile but with little success. By the time the Countess was able to cross the drawing room to join their party Catherine was tranquilly responding to a question that had been posed to her by one of the others and her nephew was outwardly calm but had his _Darcy Mask _firmly in place. Lady Matlock wasn't fooled though; of the two of them Darcy was the one most upset by whatever it was that Lady Marianne had said.

Supper was announced at that time and Lady Matlock had the satisfaction of knowing that at least in this instance her son's wife would be stymied. As the daughter of a Duke, Marianne had precedence over even the Earl and his Lady, and took every opportunity of exercising this privilege during the time of her engagement. Marriage, however, had lowered her to the status of wife of a Viscount and Marianne and Edmund must now give way to the Earl and his wife. Lady Matlock knew there was not a guest in her home this evening that would not have graciously ceded his or her own place to allow the guests of honour to immediately follow their hosts into the dining room but she also knew that her daughter-in-law would be quite insistent that Darcy and Catherine follow _her _into the dining room. And so it was with no small amount of pleasure that she spoke to Darcy within hearing of the other guests, including Marianne.

"My dear nephew, I'm afraid you will have to be content escorting me in for supper rather than your lovely wife. The Earl absolutely insisted that he lead the way with Catherine on his arm; so we will have to do with each other's company and follow in their wake."

And so the guests filed in for supper with Lord Matlock leading the way with Kitty on his arm, Darcy and his aunt following them, and the Viscount and Viscountess Matlock (who looked a bit miffed at being outmaneuvered by her mother-in-law) entering third. The dining room at Matlock House was one of the most famous in London. It ran the entire length of one side of the house and could easily accommodate the fifty guests in attendance that evening. The Waterford chandelier that hung over the centre of the table was comprised of over sixty candles that lent a soft glow to the entire room and it had been hand-crafted to order by the Earl's great grandfather. The home's conservatory grew roses all year round and the room was fragrant with their scent. When she first entered the room on the Earl's arm Kitty was amazed at how lovely everything was, turned to Lady Matlock with an expression of delight on her face, and thanked her for her very great kindness in hosting this party for them. Her spontaneous reaction reinforced everything that Lady Matlock had previously surmised about her new niece's character and she fervently hoped that before long Darcy himself would come to appreciate the rare qualities that his young wife possessed.

The supper was a pleasant affair for all who attended, but then they always were at Matlock House. There was no embargo on any subject and there were lively discussions at the table concerning politics, new agricultural techniques, the latest outrageous fashions (at least to some), Britain's ongoing conflict with the Americas, and the latest books and theatre productions. It was not until the dessert had been served that Lord Matlock rose to his feet at the head of the table and proposed a toast to the newly married couple.

'My friends, as you all know, I am unaccustomed to making speeches and am not quite sure how to begin."

This statement was greeted by hearty laughter from all who heard it. Lord Matlock was generally regarded as the most eloquent speaker in the House of Lords and when he did rise to the podium in that great assembly hall his speeches were always met with an uncharacteristic silence by his peers. His intelligence and eloquence were evident but it was the humour that punctuated his orations that kept their rapt attention. The London Times frequently published extracts from his speeches and there had even been talk of publishing a book of his most famous ones.

"I must confess to you all that Lady Matlock and I were beyond surprised when our nephew announced his engagement, and I'm sure that most of the people at this table were also. _Shocked _doesn't even begin to describe our reaction – _flabbergasted_ and _incredulous_ would be closer to the truth." He had to pause here in his toast until the laughter at the table subsided. "Now, as I'm sure most of you already know, Darcy is a rather serious fellow and for several years we have watched our nephew spent a good deal of time and effort outrunning his more determined admirers and their eager mothers." This statement was greeted with more laughter, for the Earl and his Lady were not the only witnesses to these attempts by young ladies to become the Mistress of Pemberley. "My wife was most anxious to meet the fortunate young lady whom he had chosen to be his bride and I must admit to a wee bit of curiosity myself. When we finally did make her acquaintance, it took us only a few minutes to completely understand what had motivated our nephew to behave in such an uncharacteristic fashion. We have always loved Darcy and respected his judgment, and taking this lovely lady as his wife served to reaffirm our estimation of his intelligence even more. Lady Matlock and I are delighted to welcome Catherine into our family, and hope that all of you will join us in a toast to the newly married Darcys and in a wish for their continued happiness."

If anyone at that table had any doubts about Mrs. Darcy being fully accepted into the family this speech certainly made it clear that both Lord Matlock and his wife welcomed her unconditionally. All the guests that evening were aware of the London gossip concerning this union – in particular Lady de Bourgh's vitriolic disapproval and also speculation concerning the haste of their wedding. Lady Catherine's attitude could easily be explained; it was no secret that for years she had anticipated her daughter Anne's marriage to Darcy. But the precipitous nature of the marriage was altogether a different matter and was the main topic of conversation by the ladies during morning visits for several weeks. The consensus reached by most was that he had been trapped into a union that he never would have formed otherwise. This was a balm to the pride of those ladies who had unsuccessfully pursued Darcy in the past and also lent an air of mystery to the entire affair. However, those who were present at the Matlock dinner that evening would be in a position to authoritatively dispel any of the rumors that were presently making the rounds of London's drawing rooms. And if this had been Lady Matlock's intent when hosting this party, and the Earl's purpose in his speech, well, perhaps that was understandable.

After the supper the ladies returned to the drawing room for coffee and tea and the men repaired to the Earl's study for their customary indulgence in brandy and cigars. Lady Matlock was aware that Catherine neither sang nor played the pianoforte and announced to the other ladies that conversation rather than music or cards would be her preference when the men returned. The lady had chosen wisely; her guests were more than happy to renew relationships with old friends and to further acquaint themselves with Darcy's pretty bride. She was also delighted to see that Miss Bennet and her sister Elizabeth were frequently the focal points of attention from both the younger and the older guests and that lively discussions and the sound of laughter from whatever group they were in frequently filled the air. Everyone seemed to be having an enjoyable time, which is always a relief for any hostess, but the highlight of the evening for Lady Matlock was a quiet conversation she had with her husband. She was standing a bit off to the side of the room when her husband approached her with a wide grin on his face.

"You are looking a bit smug, Edward. Are you going to tell me why you have that smile upon your face?"

"I have made a discovery that I think has escaped even _your_ notice, my dear."

"I very much doubt that, but I am willing to be surprised. What have you found?"

"Before I answer your question allow me to pose one of my own. Do you recall that day last summer when we were walking about the gardens at Fitzwilliam Hall and you were pointing out the flowers in each of the beds? I imagine you were thinking I wasn't attending, but I assure you that I was."

"I do recall that day, and I can't imagine what that has to do with your smile this evening."

"Well, now I come to the point. Did you happen to notice the flowers that are on the borders of Catherine's gown? No? Well I did, and clever fellow that I am, I even knew what type of flowers they are. I asked her what they were and if she had particularly requested that they be sewn on her gown."

"Hmmmm…I cannot imagine how that could possibly be important but I'll humour you and ask the obvious question. What flowers are they?"

"Sweet Williams, and it was by her request that they were added."

It took but a moment for Lady Matlock to realize the significance of Catherine making such a choice and her wide smile matched his own. "You are indeed a clever man, and because this is such a very telling bit of information, I promise that Richard and I will desist from calling you obtuse for a month at least."

"Thank you for that, my dear. But there remains one more task before my triumph is complete. Do you want to be the one to relate this news to our nephew or shall I?

"Far be it for me to detract from your one successful foray into detection, Edward. Yours is the discovery, and so you shall have the pleasure of informing the one person it touches upon the most."

Lord Matlock found his nephew at Catherine's side, as he had been all evening, but it was an easy matter for him to draw Darcy apart to converse with him. Lady Matlock was observing her nephew carefully when her husband spoke; he looked puzzled, and then pleased, and returned to the group surrounding his wife with a complacent smile.

When the evening drew to a close and the guests departed Lady Matlock had the satisfaction of knowing that her motivation for hosting this party had succeeded beyond anything she could have imagined. There was not a guest at this supper who was not favorably inclined toward her new niece and soon all of London would be aware of it. Well, there was _one _guest who found Catherine wanting but her daughter-in-law came to the party determined to dislike her and dislike her she did. There was no possibility that Marianne would approve of any woman who became Mrs. Darcy and Lady Matlock was well aware that there would be an ongoing battle to keep her civil in the future. Edmund's wife had managed to humiliate Catherine only once during the evening and when Lady Matlock heard what had been said she reproached herself for giving Marianne the means to do so. She herself had selected the gown, shoes, and gloves that Catherine had worn this evening and she had even sent her own maid to dress her hair. She had seen to every detail, but she had neglected one important factor, and it was this that Marianne had used to her advantage.

"Mrs. Darcy, you look absolutely enchanting this evening! I see that you are intent on putting the rest of us ladies to shame. I am astonished that you are wearing no jewelry; any other woman who now has access to the legendary Darcy jewels would undoubtedly be wearing them tonight. I have to believe that this is deliberate; all the other ladies present are wearing their very best family heirlooms for such an important occasion."

Lady Matlock was mortified because Marianne was right; every other woman there was adorned with glittering necklaces, bracelets, and earbobs. The Darcy jewels were indeed legendary; in addition to the items from the collections of Darcy's ancestors, his father through the years had carefully noted what gowns his wife would be wearing to social events and purchased jewelry that would complement them. When she chose green for her gown, he presented her with an emerald necklace and bracelet; when her choice was red she received a ruby necklace and earrings. Darcy had obviously been offended by Marianne's comments; there had been so many things troubling him in the past few months that procuring his mother's jewels had probably never even crossed his mind. Lady Matlock hoped that even now he was explaining this to Catherine, whom Lady Matlock feared had drawn her own conclusions as to this omission on the part of her husband and was deeply hurt by it.

Knowing her son Edmund's wife quite well by this time, Lady Matlock could certainly understand why this evening would be a severe trial for her. Lady Marianne's vanity was such that having any woman other than herself as the focus of attention at a social gathering was difficult for her and seeing Catherine being feted as the wife of Darcy must have grated horribly on her inflated sense of entitlement. She was of the opinion that her social status, appearance, and behavior were above reproach, and she was continually affronted by other people who were not of like mind. When she and Edmund became engaged she was firmly convinced that all the advantage of the match was on his side; she was, after all, the daughter of a Duke and he was the son of a mere Earl, and her dowry of thirty thousand pounds she felt was further evidence of her value as a marriage partner. The Matlocks were definitely _not _of this opinion and when their son announced his engagement they used every persuasion in their power to dissuade him from making this alliance. They were unsuccessful and he professed an attachment to the lady that no arguments on their part could overcome. Unfortunately, their son unwisely relayed to his fiancé the entirety of his conversation with his parents. Marianne was already convinced that her soon-to-be husband was not the brightest of men and this conversation further convinced her of it. She had previously seen that Lord and Lady Matlock were not as welcoming to her as she felt they should be and Edmund had unwittingly provided her with details confirming this. From that point on she took every opportunity she could to belittle him in the hearing of his parents. It was invariably done with a smile and a subtlety that others could ascribe to the teasing of an affectionate partner and Edmund himself felt it was just one more example of the ready wit of his dear wife. She was aware of Lady Matlock's efforts to become familiar with Darcy's wife and was incensed when she heard that her mother-in-law had been instrumental in ensuring that Catherine would be attractive this evening. And so when she made that snide comment to Darcy and his wife concerning her lack of jewelry she had the satisfaction of knowing that Lady Matlock would also be included in the insult. The toast that the Earl made to the Darcys was a further source of irritation to her – _she _certainly had never been welcomed into the family as wholeheartedly as this country upstart who had nothing to recommend her. So the evening concluded with Lady Matlock quite content with the success of her party, and her daughter-in-law seriously displeased and busy contemplating ways to further irritate Darcy, and humiliate his wife, the next time they were in company together.

Darcy and Catherine entered their carriage after the party with very different feelings than Edmund's wife, and if their sense of relief was as powerful as their sense of happiness it was certainly understandable. Darcy had been reasonably confident that his wife would handle herself well in this situation, but then again, she had never been exposed to the number of people that she had faced this evening – people who were of an exalted status in London society. He kept by her side all evening ready to intervene if she faltered at any time, but she never did, and he knew that the general consensus of all who attended this evening's gathering was that he had married a lovely young woman who would be an asset to him in the future. He was contemplating these things when his wife spoke to him.

"You seem quite pleased. Do you feel, as I do, that we have just spent a wonderful evening?"

"I do indeed Catherine, and I hope you can see that all your worries were for naught."

"My worries? What do you mean?"

"Well, the fear that perhaps they would not like you."

Kitty was genuinely puzzled. "Why would they not like me?"

Darcy was taken aback by her question, but when he thought of the numerous discussions they had had about this dinner party, he recalled that she had never mentioned any such concerns. He realized then that he was ascribing to his wife emotions that Georgiana always expressed when faced with social situations, and that he had been in error to simply assume that both young women would feel the same. But Catherine most definitely was _not _Georgiana; he had associated with so few women in his life that he had thought his sister's behavior was indicative of what his wife would also feel. He needed to rethink this; he needed time to fully accept the fact that Catherine was very different from his expectations, and that he would need to proceed cautiously in the future. He wondered how he could have been so insensitive to have been unaware of this in the past, and knew that his behavior to his wife would need to be altered to include this vital factor. So intense was his concentration on these things that it took a gentle nudge from his wife to remind him that he had not yet answered her question.

"Why would they not like you? I'm not sure really, but I have seen this in the past, particularly with the ladies. They take an instant dislike to someone and have no hesitation in expressing their views to all who will listen. More specifically in this instance, I wonder if you are even aware that there are a number of ladies who wanted to be what you are now – who wanted to be my wife."

"I've never thought of that, although now that you mention it I should not be surprised. You are very handsome, you know." Darcy was glad that the interior of the carriage was sufficiently dark to hide his expression of incredulity at this statement. His wife continued to amaze him –'handsome' she had said, and no mention was made of Pemberley, the townhouse in London, or his annual income. "If this is indeed the case, that they wanted you for themselves, I would imagine they disliked me before even meeting me and there would be nothing I could do or say to change their opinion. So really, it isn't actually _me _that they dislike, but rather my position as your wife, and so it does not distress me that I don't have their favorable regard. But surely you too must have encountered people like this; how do you feel about them?"

It took Darcy a moment to respond. He had never considered how he felt about such people but she was correct – he had encountered similar situations. "I must acknowledge that my reaction is similar to yours, although I have never analyzed why this is so. The people who behave this way invariably are people I would not want to associate with anyway, and so I dismiss them with the realization that not having their regard is certainly no loss to me."

Their carriage arrived at Darcy House at this point, and both retired for the night soon afterward. Kitty fell asleep the moment her head touched the pillow but Darcy found that sleep eluded him. His relationship with his wife was evolving so quickly that he felt he could not adapt without careful consideration of all that he had learned. She was much more intelligent than he had imagined and much more complex than he was comfortable with. There was a depth to her understanding and her willingness to share it that was foreign to him, and he wasn't sure he could respond to the openness of her manner with similar frankness. He had spent a lifetime concealing his thoughts and subjugating his emotions and he was doubtful that he could meet his wife's candor with anything even approaching her own. He wasn't even sure that he desired such intimacy and feared her reaction if he rebuffed her attempts for a mutually unreserved relationship. He hadn't expected it in his marriage and he was unprepared to deal with it. He had much to think on; he could not regret the fact that he and Catherine seemed to be compatible in so many ways, but he feared the future and the possibility that she would expect of him the same openness that she had so willingly displayed with him.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The following morning found the two oldest Bennet sisters calling on their sister Kitty as early as propriety would allow. They had much to discuss after such an eventful evening and were eager to hear the impressions of the others regarding this party. Darcy joined them in the sitting room when they first arrived, and much as he had always eschewed gossip, soon found himself drawn in by their observations. As the guests of honour, he and Catherine had missed many of the conversations and undercurrents of the supper party and he found himself curious as to what her sisters had observed. He already knew that his wife had made a favorable impression on the guests but it was gratifying to hear the specifics of what Jane and Elizabeth had heard concerning their sister. Miss Bingley's unsuccessful attempt to join the supper party was also canvassed, and although they were unable to disguise their satisfaction at Lady Matlock's handling of the situation, they agreed that the mistake had probably been an honest one on the part of Miss Bingley. The lady in question had shown herself to be acutely conscious of the social status of those she considered beneath herself but her pride refused to acknowledge that there were those in the upper levels of society who would not readily welcome her in their midst. Jane then related something that the others had not been privy to; Lady Matlock had drawn Charles Bingley aside during the course of the evening to apologize for any embarrassment he might be feeling as a result of his sister's conduct. She also requested that he inform his sister that perhaps her mistake concerning the invitation would have been overlooked had she not behaved so rudely to Catherine at the opera, and that if Lady Matlock heard _any _criticism of her new niece that had originated from Miss Bingley she would be extremely displeased. This information was new to Darcy, and he could not help but smile. It was not the first time he had witnessed his aunt's staunch defense of those closest to her and it was a source of gratification to know that his wife was now included in that number.

Georgiana joined the sisters at this point; she also had come to call with the same expectation of reviewing the events of the previous evening with Kitty. She was surprised to see her brother in the room; he had always admonished her for any tendency to gossip and now he seemed to be as attentive as the others to every detail that would be related. Georgiana had planned to call on the Bennet sisters after visiting with Kitty and was pleased to see them present in the sitting room. She thanked them for their kindness in always including her in their company that evening; she could never recall an occasion when she had felt so at ease in society, and it was all their doing. Darcy thought back and realized that this was indeed true; he had not seen his sister any time during the previous night when she had not been in the company of one of the sisters. She had been present when Lady Marianne had been so unkind to Mr. Bingley and one of the reasons she had wanted to call on the Bennet sisters was to assure Jane that what was said was simply not true. It was obvious that Jane was still upset and Darcy asked them to relate to him exactly what had happened. He wasn't surprised by it, and he joined his sister in assuring Jane that a comment of this nature was typical of his cousin's wife but was definitely _not _typical of Bingley's behavior.

The discussion then focused on Elizabeth and Jane was curious to know whether her impression of the colonel had improved. Darcy heard the word 'improved' and instantly wanted to know more about why there was any need for this to happen.

"Elizabeth, I was not aware that there was anything amiss in your relationship with Richard. What occurred that necessitated an improvement of your relationship?"

"Nothing important, just a few chance remarks that he apologized for and that I'm sure he no longer means. Truly, Darcy, it was nothing at all. You must excuse me, but I would prefer to not discuss this."

"I will _not _excuse you. Tell me."

"I will not, and I can be every bit as stubborn as you. You will only become angry."

But Darcy was already angry and would not let it go until he heard the details. He could see that Elizabeth would not relent but he knew Jane's more compliant nature and turned to her.

"Jane, you must be privy to what was said. I will not give way on this; tell me exactly what occurred."

Darcy was correct in his feeling that Jane would not defy a direct order from him, and with a deep blush and an apologetic glance at her sister, Jane told him what had occurred. "My sister is right, Darcy; I also am sure the colonel now regrets what he said to her. At the engagement dinner he seemed quite surprised when he met Kitty, and Elizabeth was curious as to why this should be. He meant no harm I'm sure, but he did happen to mention that many people, including your own family, had expected your bride to be someone quite different than a country girl with no family, fortune, or connections. Lizzy was furious with him, but last night he was so kind and agreeable, and so outspoken in his regard for Kitty, that she very much enjoyed his company and has truly forgiven him."

It was unfortunate, but at this very moment both Richard and Bingley made their appearance in the sitting room. They had earlier called on the Bennet sisters at Gracechurch Street for the express purpose of comparing impressions of the previous evening and the Gardiners had told the men where the sisters had gone. Richard related that he had breakfasted with his parents who mentioned Marianne's criticism of Catherine for not wearing the Darcy jewels, and he himself was now wondering about the same thing and made the mistake of boldly asking Darcy why this was so. The colonel hadn't noticed the dark scowl on his cousin's face that had been directed at him since he entered the room, and it grew even more menacing when he was questioned on a topic that already made Darcy uneasy. He had forgotten to discuss the jewels with his wife when they were returning home from the supper party and he had no intention of explaining himself now in a room full of people.

"This is really none of your business, Richard. But then you make a habit of intruding where you are not welcome, and saying things that only a fool would ever consider mentioning."

"I see I have touched on a sore spot, Darcy. Are the treasured Darcy jewels just one more thing that your

misplaced pride has denied your wife?"

Darcy arose from his chair so rapidly that it flew over backward with a crash. "Get out! Get out now before I throw you out."

Richard had also risen from his chair, and faced Darcy with an expression every bit as livid as his cousin's.

"You're a coward, Darcy, and I very much doubt you are capable of doing it."

"I assure you I am very capable of removing you from the presence of ladies who find totally reprehensible your obnoxious opinions of your own worth as compared to their own."

Richard knew from this comment that Darcy was aware of what he had said at the engagement dinner, and his rage was such that he reacted without thinking. He drew his arm back and went to punch his cousin in the face with all the strength he could muster. Unfortunately, Kitty had seen what was about to happen, and hoping to avert violence between the cousins, had flung herself in front of Darcy. Richard realized she was there at the last minute but not soon enough to deflect a powerful blow that he delivered to her left temple. The room erupted into total chaos in an instant. Catherine had been forcibly thrown back against Darcy's chest and was unconscious. His main concern was for her; he carried her in his arms to a sofa in the room while calling out frantically for a bag of ice and for someone to fetch the family's physician, Dr. Rushton. Jane was so upset that she herself was in danger of fainting and Bingley was attempting to calm her. Georgiana had become completely hysterical and was sobbing uncontrollably as she rushed to the sofa to try to assess how badly Kitty was hurt. Elizabeth was perhaps the most clear-thinking person in the room. She grabbed the colonel's arm and propelled him down the stairs to the front entrance.

"Go, go! If Darcy sees you here there will be an even more dreadful scene. How could you?! How could you behave in such a manner?! Do not return here for any reason. When Georgiana returns to your parent's home she will be able to tell you Kitty's condition. Now quickly, go!"

By the time Elizabeth returned to the sitting room things had calmed down considerably. Darcy and Georgiana were kneeling on the floor beside the sofa where Kitty was still unconscious when Mrs. Downton rushed in with the bag of ice that Darcy had requested. She could not help exclaiming when she saw the large swelling on the side of Kitty's face. Darcy realized then that he needed to give his housekeeper an accounting of what had occurred as well as to the other servants who were huddling anxiously in the doorway. He had been so concerned for Kitty that he hadn't even thought of his cousin or his role in what had happened. For a brief moment he considered informing Mrs. Downton of exactly how Catherine and been injured and that it was the colonel who was responsible for it. All of London would know of it before nightfall and Richard would undoubtedly be shunned by polite society for quite some time. The thought of his aunt and uncle gave him pause though; it would not be possible to exact revenge on his cousin in this manner without hurting them also. There were few things that he disliked more than a falsehood, but in this case it was absolutely necessary.

"Mrs. Darcy was crossing the room rather quickly and caught her shoe on the edge of the oriental carpet. She fell quite heavily and landed on one side of her face, and that is why there is the swelling that you see."

Darcy's housekeeper was no fool, far from it, and she knew there was no possibility that such extreme swelling in only one place on her mistress's face could be caused by a fall. Something else had transpired in this room that her master wanted kept quiet, and she immediately resolved that anyone who questioned her would be given exactly the same explanation that Darcy had given her, and with as much conviction as she could summon. At this point the family physician arrived and Darcy shooed everyone out of the room, even Georgiana. Dr. Rushton had been the Darcy family's personal physician for many years and Darcy knew there was no possibility that he would accept the version of Kitty's injuries that he had just related to the housekeeper. And so he told him everything and the doctor had no visible reaction except an involuntary widening of his eyes. He knew Colonel Fitzwilliam well and had to school his features carefully so that he did not betray his shock that Richard could be responsible for what had happened to Darcy's young wife. He then began to examine Kitty carefully, checking not only the point of impact but her eyes, pulse, and heart rate. It was difficult to give an accurate prognosis for a head injury but he was reasonably confident when he assured Darcy that although she seemed to have a slight concussion she was not badly injured and that all would be well. The only troubling thing was that she was still unconscious and he wanted to awaken her before he left. To this end he removed a bottle from his case and moved it back and forth under Kitty's nose. Darcy was familiar with the odor of smelling salts but this was the most noxious substance he had ever smelled. It was effective though; Catherine gasped for air several times and then was fully conscious. It took her a moment to get her bearings and recall what had happened, and when she did remember she cried out and reached for Darcy. He didn't hesitate but wrapped her securely in his arms before he sat back down on the sofa with Kitty on his lap. She clung to him and could not control her sobbing. Darcy didn't know what to do to comfort her, but he did know that if his cousin had entered the room at that point he would have cheerfully murdered him. He looked helplessly at the apothecary who decided it was time to intervene.

"Mrs. Darcy, you will make yourself ill if you continue on in this way. I know you've been hurt, but I am here to see that you will get better. I need to further examine you and must have your co-operation to do so."

Darcy could see that Kitty was trying very hard to control herself, and after a few minutes she was able to look at the apothecary and respond to his simple requests. He asked her the date of her birth and the names of her parents and siblings. He had her count to ten, and then count from ten to one. She was sufficiently calm by this point that he had Darcy carefully help her stand and then he requested that she walk from one end of the room to the other. She was able to do all these tasks effortlessly and the doctor felt it would be safe for him to leave her. He instructed that ice be applied to the swollen area for the next twelve hours and that under no circumstances was she to be left alone. If there was any change in her condition he wanted to be notified immediately. Darcy thanked him and asked him to relay this news to Catherine's sisters, his sister, and Bingley and to tell them that he and his wife wanted to be alone for the remainder of the day. He also asked that his staff be informed that they were not to be disturbed for any reason. They were both standing when the doctor departed and when the door closed he lifted her in his arms and sat in an armchair with her cradled on his lap. He was careful to position her so that the right side of her face rested against his chest and with his left hand he held the ice pack to her head. She began to cry again and he rocked her gently back and forth the way he remembered doing with Georgiana when she was a child. She finally quieted and sat up so that her face was only inches from his.

"Are you plotting your revenge?"

"You must be a mind-reader. That is precisely what I am doing."

"I am the one who was injured, not you. So therefore I am the one who should decide what will happen in the future."

"No."

"How can you say that? I need to have a say in this; I need to know what you are planning to do."

"No."

There was a long silence as they regarded each other with determined expressions on their faces. Kitty was the first to speak.

"Oh, dear. This is upsetting me very much. In fact, I think I'm having a relapse and you will need to summon the apothecary again. I feel quite ill. I don't think that now I could count from ten to one if my life depended on it."

"Blackmail?"

"Why yes, that's exactly what it is."

"All right, I agree to consult with you concerning what our relationship with Richard will be from this point on. That doesn't mean I'm going to abide by your wishes, but I will at least consult you."

They could both hear someone pounding on the front door but Darcy was confident that his staff would never disobey his orders and permit them to be disturbed. Not many minutes later, however, his aunt and uncle entered the room, followed by a very flustered doorman who was apologizing profusely and assuring his master that he had done everything he could to deny them admittance. If the Earl and his wife were surprised to discover their nephew holding his wife in such an intimate manner they made no mention of it. They were so distraught over other circumstances that they scarcely noticed when Kitty carefully extricated herself from Darcy's lap and went to sit on the sofa. Her hair had long since escaped its pins and was by now a mass of tangled curls that partially covered her left temple. The Earl sat down on the sofa beside her and carefully lifted the hair on the left side of her face.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, Lord Matlock, truly I am."

"You don't look fine. And you've been crying."

"Well, yes, I have. I was so surprised, that's all. He didn't mean to do it, though, you must know that. It was just an accident, a foolish accident, and I hope you will tell him that I know he didn't mean for it to happen."

His uncle then turned to Darcy. "And you, how do you feel about this? Are you as forgiving as your wife?"

"No, uncle, I'm sorry if it pains you, but I am not. It was an absolutely despicable thing to do and the fact that he meant to strike me rather than my wife doesn't make it any better. There were four ladies in the room when this happened, and such behavior is unforgivable."

"And what do you plan to do about it?"

"I don't know. I've been so concerned about Catherine that there hasn't been time for me to think of the future." He then became aware of the intense expression on his wife's face as she was looking at him and he realized that he needed to say more concerning this. "Catherine and I were just discussing this when you came in. We decided that our future relationship with Richard must be a joint decision and I have agreed to not do anything without consulting her first."

The Earl visibly relaxed, but he had one more concern that needed to be voiced. "Most men would demand satisfaction from anyone who attacked their wife."

It took a moment for Darcy to grasp what his uncle was implying. "Good God, uncle, do you mean a duel?"

"Yes, that is exactly what I mean. I want your word that under no circumstances would you consider such a thing."

"I give you my word. As angry as I am, this is one method of revenge that I would never have considered."

"Oh? And what method of revenge would you consider?"

"I never want to lay eyes on him again; I never want him anywhere near my wife; I can't even imagine attending a family gathering where he is present. I know this must be very painful for you and my aunt, and I would never ask you to choose between us, but I do ask that you take care that I don't cross paths with Richard any time soon."

His aunt and uncle readily agreed to this, and informed Darcy that their son was no longer at Matlock House but had returned to his army barracks. He had confessed to them the events of the morning and no man could be more remorseful for what he had done. Even the Earl, who made it a practice to analyze problem situations and arrive at a viable solution, could see no way that this conflict could be resolved. However, he and his wife could attempt to somewhat ameliorate Richard's offense and their motivation was not just for their niece and nephew but also to protect the standing of the family in London society. No amount of carefully placed curls or makeup could disguise the swelling and rapidly purpling bruise on Catherine's face and they felt that the best solution would for the Darcys to leave the city as soon as may be. The Matlocks owned an old stone manor on the southeastern coast of England and offered its use to them for as long as they wanted to remain there. Darcy was familiar with it; he had spent holidays there with the Matlocks almost every year since he was a child, and he knew that its relative isolation from Folkestone, the nearest village, would be ideal to ensure their privacy until Kitty was once again presentable and able to receive callers. He explained all this to his wife, and when she agreed that this seemed to be a good idea, he thanked his aunt and uncle, accepted their offer, and said that he felt, as they did, that he and Catherine should leave for Folkestone as soon as possible. It was then decided that the Matlocks would send a carriage at first light with a cook, two menservants, and four maids to ready the manor for their arrival. The Darcys would leave for the coast several hours later, and if the weather was favorable, they could easily reach their destination before tea time. The Matlocks then departed, and both were relieved that there was no possibility of a duel, and that the Darcys would be leaving for Folkestone the next day. In the carriage returning to their home Lady Matlock questioned her husband concerning his impressions of this meeting.

"What do you think, my dear? Is there anything more that we can do? I'm just sick at heart when I think of the two of them being estranged; they have been like brothers all of their lives."

Lord Matlock, as was his way, thought for several moments before he replied. "I don't see anything more that we can do. Darcy and Richard have both inherited the Fitzwilliam stubbornness and pride and I can't envision either of them making the first move toward a reconciliation. It's strange, and until today I never would have even considered such a thing, but I think our best hope lies with Catherine."

His wife could not disguise her surprise. "Catherine? I agree that she seems the type of woman who would urge her husband to reconsider his resentment, but I'm unable to believe that she has the power to influence him in such a serious matter." She thought a moment, "Although perhaps you have the right of it, and I hope it is so. Did you happen to observe where they were sitting when we first entered the sitting room?"

"No, I didn't."

"She was sitting on his lap, Edward."

"Well, that's interesting, I guess, but I fail to see how that has anything to do with what we're discussing."

"My dear husband, if I were sitting on your lap with my arms around your neck, is there anything you would deny me?"

"I would like to think that through the years there has been nothing I _have _denied you, regardless of where you were located in a room when you made the request." He smiled at her, "Although perhaps you have a point; I must concede that under those circumstances I would fulfill even your most outrageous request without a moment's hesitation."

"Did you also notice that twice he deferred to Catherine before coming to a decision – once when saying that in the future their relationship with Richard would be a mutual decision, and also when accepting our offer for the manor in Folkestone."

"Of course I didn't notice it; that's why I married you, to keep me informed of all the things that are happening right under my nose that I am oblivious of. That is a most interesting observation though; have you ever known Darcy to consult with anyone before doing whatever he pleases and going wherever he wants? I know he loves Georgiana and in many ways has been an excellent guardian for her, but even she has had no say in who her tutors will be, what subjects she will study, and even when she is to reside at Pemberley or London. She seems fine with this arrangement, but I have a feeling that Catherine will not permit it, and our nephew is already aware of that fact. He doesn't like it a bit, I imagine, but maybe it's time he realizes that things cannot always go his way."

She gave him a wide smile. "Yes, that certainly is something that most husbands I know have a difficult time adjusting to."

"I wouldn't know from personal experience whether that is true or not, but I do know that you could not possibly be referring to anyone in _this _carriage."

She laughed at this, and gave him a knowing look, for they were both aware that there most definitely _was_ someone in that carriage who had encountered the same difficulties that Darcy was now facing concerning the demands of wedlock. The Matlock marriage had been arranged by their families and when their engagement was announced the couple had spent less than an hour in each other's company. No two people could have such differing views of what marriage would entail. Lady Matlock's family had been a loving one and her mother and father were deeply attached to each other. She was relatively young when she wed, but eighteen years old, and had every expectation that the home that she and her husband would create would be similar to the one where she was raised. She was prepared to be loved and to be loving and entered the union with every expectation of felicity. Lord Matlock's situation was quite the opposite. His sister Catherine was five years his senior and had assumed the position of hostess for their father and guardian of her younger siblings, Edward and Anne, at quite a young age. Their mother had died giving birth to Anne and the future Earl was raised in a home that never had the softening influence of a woman's touch. His father was stern and distant and Catherine's disposition was such that she was unable to be anything but overbearing to her younger siblings. Edward's expectations of marriage were minimal and when he met his future wife it was enough for him to ascertain that she would not be another Catherine. He was an extremely intelligent man and had received top honours at Oxford in almost all his areas of study, and when his father died two years after his wedding he found himself Earl of the vast holdings of Matlock at a very young age. Problems arouse in the early days of their union when it became evident to Lady Matlock that her husband adhered to the popular belief that women were simply not intelligent enough to fully comprehend the dynamics of a larger world. He felt, as had his father and now his peers, that a woman's place was in the drawing room, the nursery, and the bedroom, although he was never foolish enough to voice this opinion to his young wife. He was unfailingly polite to her, proud of her accomplishments as a hostess, and delighted when within three years of their marriage she had presented him with two sons, Edmund and Richard. He had come to respect her intelligence and was always willing to listen to her opinions on any topics that would impact their home or their sons. However, he adamantly refused to give her access to the intricacies of the world he faced when he left their home, and she resented him for it.

In the fourth year of their marriage historical events transpired that affected a dramatic change in their relationship. The monarchy was under attack from various factions not only throughout Britain but also in the House of Lords and some proponents were advising the dissolution of it altogether. George III, who had the distinction of being the monarch whose stupidity was responsible for the loss of the Americas for Britain, still nominally ruled but had gradually gone from mere eccentricity to outright madness. The alternative was a regency headed by his son, a man who had spent the last several years draining the royal coffers with his profligate ways. There were many who felt that the best solution would be to abolish the monarchy and they certainly had compelling evidence to support this position. Lord Matlock, as always taking a broader view, made several impassioned speeches to his peers in which the spectre of the French Revolution played a prominent part. The horrors that had taken place across the English Channel, and not so long ago, he felt could easily occur in their own country if the monarchy was done away with, and the landed aristocracy would be the next victims, as they had been in France. He soon found himself the leader of the Tory Party, who were supporting the continuity of a monarchal government, and the responsibilities that this position entailed were enormous. Parliament was sitting at that time, and his days were spent listening to impassioned speeches from both factions, making equally impassioned speeches himself, and attempting to promote at least the appearance of civility among men whose convictions were as unbendable as their tempers were volatile. He would arrive home absolutely drained, sometimes late in the evening, and his wife would be waiting up for him regardless of the hour. He found himself relating to her some of the more frustrating aspects of his day and gradually all the barriers that he had so carefully erected between them began to dissolve. Her sympathy for the stress and contention that characterized his days at that time could not but be a balm to his spirit. He was surprised to realize that her grasp of the complexity of the problem, particularly as it related to the French Revolution and its resultant reign of terror for both the nobility and the upper classes, was far beyond that of most of his peers. The turning point came for him when he delivered a speech in the House of Lords and realized that one of his primary arguments was phrased in the exact terms that his wife had used the previous evening when they had been discussing the same subject. He was forced to admit to himself, and later to her, that perhaps, just perhaps, this was indeed one area of his life that he could share with her. From that day on he kept nothing from his wife, and the result was a marriage deeply satisfying to both of them, and a source of envy to many of their acquaintances.

When the Matlocks were having their conversation in the carriage after visiting the Darcys, Colonel Fitzwilliam was halfway through an eight mile trek from their home to his barracks. After his confession to them earlier he hadn't the nerve to order one of the family carriages to convey him to the army base and he decided that the walk would give him time to think through the events of the day. His parents had reacted to the news of what he had done with a shocked silence and he waited in agony until his father finally spoke. Lord Matlock then ordered him out of the house immediately and told him to not return until he was specifically requested to do so by either himself or his mother. His mother said nothing but the expression on her face was more painful to him than being banished from his home. He went to his room, ordered his scout to pack his bags, and was soon in the front hall of Matlock House and prepared to depart. But he found that he just couldn't leave without apologizing to his parents one more time, so he went up the stairs again and quietly opened their sitting room door in order to do so. He could then hear the quiet murmur of his father's voice and the soft weeping of his mother, and he closed the door once again and departed without speaking to them. He knew from experience that it was best to not interrupt them under these circumstances.

When he and Darcy were children they would frequently spend the entire summer together in the country at either Pemberley or Fitzwilliam Hall and it was not unusual for them to be up to some mischief. When he was thirteen and Darcy ten they were at Fitzwilliam Hall and had been caught in the midst of some such prank, he couldn't even remember what it was, and they were summoned to his father's study. His mother was also in the room, and their reprimand from his father was pretty much what it always was; he scolded them sternly for what they had done and made them promise to never do it again. And then quite suddenly the situation became more serious, his father's voice became much louder, and they were soundly berated for their behavior. Neither boy had expected such a vehement reaction, and by the time they were dismissed they were both quite shaken. Darcy in particular was upset by what had happened.

"I have never seen your father like that; it seemed when we first entered that we would get off quite easy but then something changed. Maybe I should return to Pemberley; he was so angry with us I don't think he even wants me to remain here."

"He'll calm down, Darcy; we'll just have to wait a bit. But you're right about one thing; it did begin as just your average scold and then boom – something happened. I've seen it before, not often thank heavens, and the best thing to do is just to get away from him as fast as possible. Did you notice what happened with my mother about halfway through his lecture?"

"Your mother? But she didn't say anything."

"No, and she didn't need to. My father is a pretty unflappable fellow, as I'm sure you've noticed. But, tough old bird that he is, there's one thing that he simply can't bear, and that is to see my mother cry. And you may not have noticed it, Darcy, but she began weeping just as he was winding up the "you boys are always in trouble" part of the speech. That's when things went south for us, and we'll never be in his good graces again until we can set things right with my mother."

The boys set about doing just that and it was not many days before they were again in favor with both of Richard's parents. But the years had not altered the Earl's response to his wife's tears, and when Richard had opened the door of their sitting room before he departed for his barracks he knew better then to face his father at such a time. This weighed heavily on his mind as he walked with his scout. His parents had always been proud of him; Richard was well aware of it, and until this day, he had done everything he could to foster their esteem. He had inherited the very best of both his parents, his father's intelligence and his mother's sensitivity, and these qualities had contributed to his rapid rise in his chosen profession. He was at the highest level of the army's division that specialized in intelligence gathering and was respected by everyone with whom he associated. For the first time since he had enlisted in the army ten years earlier he found himself wondering if his choice of profession was a wise one. Had he seen too much violence and death; had all that he had experienced gradually created in his mind the conviction that force was the preferred response to any opposition? He very much feared this was the case. He had killed men before – some in such close proximity that he could see the expressions on their faces when they died. He had added his 'aye' to the vote at military tribunals that decided the fate of traitors and deserters and had no compunction knowing that they would be hanged. He did not regret his conduct at the time and didn't now except as he felt it had contributed to the man he had become, a man who had not hesitated to use violence against a cousin who had been his dearest friend for many years. He had forfeited his relationship with Darcy and undoubtedly had jeopardized the close bond that had existed between himself and his parents. And then there was Elizabeth Bennet. There had definitely been an improvement in their interaction as the evening progressed at his mother's dinner party, and when he had asked her if he could call on her at the Gardiner's home she had seemed genuinely pleased. And now, after what he had done to her sister, there was simply no possibility that she would ever want to see him again. These were the gloomy thoughts of the colonel as he and his scout walked across London to his army barracks and by the time he arrived it was early evening and he was done with thinking. He just wanted to escape from such painful ruminations and could imagine only one way to do so that would also guarantee that he sleep soundly despite his depression. A friend of his had recently travelled to the West Indies and on his return had presented the colonel with a large bottle of excellent rum. Richard dismissed his scout, requested that he not return until he was summoned, and proceeded to drink the entire bottle in the course of several hours.

He was awakened the following morning by his scout vigorously shaking him and informing him that his mother and Georgiana were awaiting him in the sitting room of the barracks. His head was pounding with pain, he hadn't shaved since the previous morning, and he was so dizzy he could scarcely walk a straight line. When he entered the room both women attempted, unsuccessfully, to hide their dismay at his condition. It was his mother who spoke to him as to the reason for their visit.

"Georgiana and I knew you would be worried about Catherine and both of us received a short note from her this morning. She is fine, and when the physician attended her earlier he also felt there is no need for concern. But the reason I am here is that enclosed in the note for me there was also one for you. Georgiana and I spoke to your father and he gave us leave to come here and give it to you."

It was with some trepidation that Richard broke the seal and read what Catherine had written.

_Dear Colonel Fitzwilliam,_

_I am very concerned that the events of yesterday are weighing on your mind and I wanted to do all I could to put you at ease. The doctor has just departed and I was not surprised when he pronounced me well and healthy, for I do indeed feel fine. And I also want you to know that I have seen enough of you to know that you would never willingly harm a lady and that I view the events of yesterday as nothing more than an accident. If you feel you need forgiveness, I readily give it, and hope that you can forgive yourself._

_Would you please come to visit us in Folkestone, perhaps on Friday? I hope that this is something that you would want to do._

_Sincerely,_

_Catherine Darcy_

Richard's head was clear enough by this time to know that this was definitely _not_ something that he would want to do and he shuddered to even contemplate what Darcy's reaction to his presence would be. No, it didn't even bear thinking of – he simply could not do it. The irony of the situation did not escape him. He had been presented with several prestigious medals, one of them from the king himself in a personal audience, for his valor on the field of battle in the European Campaign, but he would rather encounter all of Napoleon's army in single combat than face his cousin. He realized then that his mother was waiting for his response to Catherine's letter and he silently handed her the note. She read it quickly and then began to question him.

"Well Richard, what are you going to do about this? You can hardly refuse such a request from her at this time."

"Oh yes, mother, I _can_ refuse such a request. There is no way I'm going to see Darcy so soon after what happened. I can see what she is about; she thinks to have three or four days to work on him so that we can meet again without coming to blows. But I know him better than she does, and three or four _years _wouldscarcely be enough time for him to cool down. And I can't really say that I blame him."

"How can you refuse her? You really can't under the circumstances. You will know as soon as you enter the manor whether Darcy is willing to receive you; if he is not you can depart immediately. She has forgiven you wholeheartedly, and there is one other thing that I think you should take into consideration. Your father and I waited on them shortly after you left yesterday, and I will tell you in confidence that after our visit your father stated that he believes that the resolution to this problem lies with Catherine. And as you know, he does not make such statements lightly. Please, Richard, agree to visit them and you can simply leave if you are met with animosity from Darcy."

The colonel could not stand firm in the face of his mother's earnest pleas, and he finally agreed to ride to Folkestone at the end of the week. At the very least he could offer the apology that his hasty departure the previous day had rendered impossible. He saw his mother was pleased, but she had not yet done with him. She had one more request to make and this one he refused even more adamantly than he had the one concerning the Darcys.

"Mother, you cannot ask this of me! For one thing, nothing good could come of it. Elizabeth Bennet will have nothing more to do with me and I will not degrade myself further in her eyes by calling on her. Mrs. Darcy may freely forgive me, and it is in her nature to do so, but I can assure you that her sister is made of much sterner stuff. Are you aware of the fact that it was Miss Elizabeth who threw me out the door of Darcy's house yesterday? Quite forcefully, I might add. I can promise you I would be just as hastily ejected from of the Gardiner's door if I even attempted to see her."

"Now, my dear, calm down. When Georgiana and I leave here we will be going directly to the Gardiner's home to speak with Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth. I have some things I need to say to them but I also want to listen carefully to what they are feeling concerning yesterday. And you may be sure that I will do all that I can to convince them that what happened is completely out of character for you. When we leave there I will send you a short note apprising you of what we have discovered. If we feel that it would be unwise for you to pursue the relationship at this time I will let you know and then you can decide what to do or what not to do."

Richard reluctantly agreed to this and the ladies departed. He spent the next hour in the agony of suspense – alternating between hope and despair. When the note from his mother finally arrived it contained only one word, 'Go.' He rather wished his mother had elaborated a bit more on what had occurred during her visit but he had learned many years ago to not question her judgment. For the next hour he was in a veritable flurry of activity and when he presented himself at the Gardiner's door he was clean, shaven, and, he hoped, quite the gentleman in his red colonel's uniform. Jane and Elizabeth received him in the drawing room and he began to speak to them immediately. He knew that he would not get another opportunity to improve their opinion of him if he failed in his attempt now. He watched their faces carefully as he spoke and he was not surprised to see that Jane forgave him before he had even finished his apology. But Elizabeth was another matter and it took her longer to respond to him. When she finally spoke, her words of forgiveness were followed by an awkward silence, and then Jane attempted to put him at ease.

"Colonel, every man has his faults, and it would be unkind of Elizabeth and me to withhold our forgiveness when we certainly have failings of our own."

This comment proved too much for Elizabeth. "Yes, Jane, that is true. But thankfully we do not count among our faults a tendency to punch someone in the face simply because we do not agree with him."

Richard winced; he certainly deserved such harsh words but it was unpleasant to hear them. He found himself speaking about things that if he hadn't been so overwrought he would never have discussed in the presence of ladies.

"You are right, Miss Elizabeth, and I have spent the last twenty-four hours reflecting on how I could have done such a thing without even hesitating. And then I realized that it's due to my profession and that I have seen too much in the last several years. Too much pain, too much blood, and too much death. I'm sure you both are familiar with the army's motto for new recruits – 'For God, King and Country, and to be the Best Man You Can Be.' Well it's a lie, and I am living proof of it. War makes a man the w_orst _he can be and I am not the man I wish I was. Yesterday showed me that quite clearly." He had been looking down at his hands when he made this confession and at times his voice was so low they could scarcely hear him. His hope for this visit was that if Elizabeth forgave him he would ask if he could see her again but now he knew that he could never request such a thing. His hands were forever bloodied with the tragedy that was war, and sitting across from the two Bennet sisters, with their pure white dresses and innocent faces, convinced him that they could never understand what he had experienced, or what he had become. He had to get out of this room; he had to summon whatever dignity he could and bid them farewell. He quickly rose from his chair, bowed to them both, and left the house.

He was mounting his horse when Elizabeth exited the Gardiner's front door and approached him.

"Jane and I were hoping that you could come for tea tomorrow afternoon. If the weather is favorable perhaps we could take the Gardiner children to the nearby park."

The colonel had been present once when a man who had been scheduled to be hung was granted a last minute reprieve. This man had been in training and had deserted his post to be with his wife, who had suddenly taken ill – so ill, in fact, that she actually died two days after his arrival at his home. It was a matter of course in the army at that time that deserters receive an automatic death penalty, but his commanding officer had become acquainted with the circumstances of his defection and had successfully pleaded for clemency. The colonel had seen the reprieved man go from abject misery to an awed sense of relief, and for the first time he truly understood what this man had experienced. Elizabeth had granted him what he hadn't dared to ask for, and he accepted the invitation with alacrity.

The next afternoon found him at the Gardiner's in good time and he was a bit dismayed to find Bingley there. So one more apology was in order and was accepted so kindly that the colonel realized it must have been Jane's doing. There was no way a man so in love could question the wisdom of any decision his beloved made, and if Jane felt the colonel was worthy of his regard then Bingley also felt it must be so. The four of them set out for the nearby park with the Gardiner children. The weather was favorable, the children were enjoying themselves, and there were no topics of conversation that were unpleasant for any of them. The colonel was finally beginning to relax when Bingley extended an invitation for him to visit Netherfield after the sisters returned to Meryton. He was silent, and looked pointedly at Elizabeth; it was for her to decide if he could accept this invitation and he wanted her to know it. Her words spoke volumes to him and for the first time since the fiasco in Darcy's sitting room he allowed himself to hope.

"We would be happy to receive you at Longbourn if you do decide to accept Mr. Bingley's invitation."

The rest of the afternoon was a blur to him and he felt a happiness that was all the more poignant because it was so unexpected. In such a short amount of time he had been granted the forgiveness of his mother, Mrs. Darcy, Georgiana, Jane and Bingley. His father, for all his initial disappointment and anger, would follow the lead of his mother and the colonel knew it would not be long before he received a summons to return home again. That Elizabeth could not only forgive him but would want to continue her acquaintance with him gave him a hope for the future that he never would have thought possible. So now there was only Darcy to confront, but the ready absolution that he had received from the others gave him the optimism to believe that maybe even _that_ situation could be set to rights. He found himself thinking of Darcy and wondering what his cousin was doing at that precise moment.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The colonel would have been surprised if he seen what his cousin was doing at that time and even more surprised if he had been aware of the thoughts that were going through Darcy's mind. Darcy and his wife had just finished their afternoon tea and he was attempting to read a letter sent to him from Pemberley's steward. Catherine had fallen asleep on the sofa and Darcy finally gave up any attempt to tend to business and was quietly watching her as she slept. He was contemplating, with no small degree of satisfaction, the fact that _he _was the reason his wife had had so little sleep the night before.

From the moment he and Catherine had entered the Darcy carriage the previous day to begin their journey to Folkestone there had been an uncharacteristic lack of constraint between them. Darcy was relieved to simply be free of London and Kitty was excited to be going to the seashore. Her happiness was infectious and it was not long before Darcy also found himself very much looking forward to the coming week. With her he felt that he could be himself and could abandon his habitual reserve; he was well aware that his wife had already seen him at his worst and he was amused by the thought that anything else could only be an improvement. He didn't realize that he was smiling until Kitty questioned him.

"What is the reason for that happy smile? I know why I am smiling - because I shall soon be at the sea for the very first time. But you must have seen it many times so it can have no such charm for you."

"If you must know, I was thinking about how very pretty you look right now."

"What? No one has ever called me pretty before."

"Then you must have previously been in company with only blind people. You are very pretty, Catherine."

"Well, thank you, William. But you must admit that anyone seen in company with Jane and Elizabeth would be at a disadvantage if one was assessing beauty. I have always been considered plain."

"I will admit no such thing. Your sisters are attractive, I'll grant you, but even the Earl referred to you as my 'beautiful wife'. He is not a man to pays an idle compliment, I assure you, and neither am I. You are pretty, Catherine, and there's an end to the matter."

Kitty couldn't help but laugh. "No, that is _not_ an end to the matter. When did your uncle mention that he found me beautiful?"

"Do you recall during my aunt's party when he drew me aside for a moment? It was then that he referred to you as my 'beautiful wife'."

"There must be more to this than you are telling me. Surely he didn't call you aside to simply tell you that."

"Well, no, he had something else in mind. He wanted me to know that the flowers embroidered on your dress were Sweet Williams and that you had personally requested them from the dressmaker."

"Oh, yes, that is true, but I never thought they would be noticed by anyone but me. It was a last minute thought of mine. In fact, your aunt and Georgiana weren't even aware of it. But you seem thoughtful…..do you mind that I did this? Are you upset with me, or that your uncle noticed what I had done?"

"Upset? No. Embarrassed? Yes. Why did you do it?"

Kitty hesitated, but she could see that Darcy wanted an answer and that he would not be put off. "No doubt you will consider this foolish, but I wanted them as a talisman, a kind of lucky charm, that would cast a spell over both of us during your aunt's party. You and I had been having such a difficult time and I was hoping that if I wore these flowers we would both be happy for that one night."

"I can see why you would resort to magic to improve our relationship. I have been a veritable bear to you since the day we were married."

"Well, not a bear exactly…"

"A tiger then? Would that be more accurate?"

"Hmmm, perhaps. But I was thinking more along the lines of a rabid dog."

Darcy began laughing then, and it was quite some time before he could stop.

"Catherine, I must return to what we were discussing before. Surely there was at least one person in your life who recognized how pretty you are?"

"There was one, but he really doesn't count."

"A beau of yours, perhaps?"

"Exactly. And I'm sure you've read enough books to know what love can do to the accuracy of one's perception."

"Hmmph…I imagine he was quite an ill-looking fellow with nothing to recommend him."

Kitty was beginning to enjoy this conversation very much. Darcy had a strange gleam in his eye and his questions had taken on a new intensity. "Why no, he is generally considered to be quite handsome. He is also an oldest son and will inherit a sizable estate one day."

Darcy was positively glowering. "I suppose I will have to call him out the next time we visit Longbourn."

"Well, if you feel you must. You're the best judge of these things, I guess."

By this time Darcy had gone beyond jealousy. "And what would have happened if I hadn't come along? I can see that you were attracted to him and you probably would have married him."

It was Kitty's turn to laugh and every time she looked at Darcy's disgruntled face she laughed even harder. "Oh my dear rabid dog, I would never have married him. Never in a million years!"

"And why not? He seems a paragon of all virtues; at the very least he must be given credit for knowing a

pretty woman when he sees one."

"Why not? Because he is undoubtedly the stupidest person I have ever met. And I'm not referring to denseness or slowness of expression. He is so incredibly stupid I'm surprised he can even tie his own shoes in the morning."

"Well, if that be the case, I'll just flatten his nose when we meet rather than asking him to meet me somewhere at dawn. I don't like stupid men, particularly men who have had the temerity to take a fancy to my pretty wife."

They were both laughing when the carriage pulled in at The Lion's Inn, a century-old establishment that marked the halfway point between London and the coast. The footman had opened the door for them to descend when Darcy pulled Kitty back into the carriage.

"Good heavens, Catherine, you can't go in looking like that! Your hair is every which way and you aren't even wearing your bonnet."

He then proceeded to do what he could to set her to rights, wrapping her long hair in his hand and tucking it under her bonnet, which he then tied in a jaunty bow.

"You seem to be quite proficient at this, sir; no doubt you have had lots of practice attending to young ladies who have been traveling alone with you to some romantic destination."

"I must confess that I have. One young lady in particular." She frowned at him in mock outrage, but he meant Georgiana and she knew it. "I can see that now it's your turn to be jealous. Good. You deserve it after what you put me through with your handsome young Meryton beau."

The main room of the establishment was noisy and crowded, and as there was no private room to be had, Darcy led his wife to a table in a relatively quiet corner. They spoke but little, and in a short amount of time they were ready to depart for the coast. The innkeeper accompanied them to their carriage and as he was closing the door he said, "I wish you a pleasant journey, Sir, Madam."

Darcy was smiling as they drove away. "He has said that same thing every time we have stopped here for over twenty-five years. A pleasant man, that."

"Yes, I agree. And it makes me think that if all we could wish for was a pleasant journey how much easier our lives would be."

Darcy was silent, pondering her words until she spoke to him again. "William, if you could have anything you wanted, if you could make a wish and have it come true, what would it be?"

It took Darcy a long time to answer; he wasn't thinking so much of her question as he was of her asking it of him. This was what he had feared the other night; Catherine wanted more from him than he was willing to give. It crossed his mind that he could easily deflect her question – that he could say something humourous and keep the same light tone that had characterized their conversation so far. He didn't feel he could discuss this; he knew what he wanted and had wanted for many years, but could she truly understand? He felt her eyes on him; she seemed to know what it would cost him to be honest with her and what it would mean to their relationship.

"I would wish to be the man that my father was."

She absorbed this answer in silence but looked at him in such a way that he knew he would have to tell her more. And so he did, and once he began to talk every detail that he had thought on for years but had never told another person was revealed. She didn't interrupt him, didn't ask questions, but just let him speak as she watched him carefully. He talked for over an hour and at times he could scarcely go on as emotion overcame him. Several times her eyes filled with tears and he knew for a certainty that he had made the right decision to confide in her. His father had been the kind of man that everyone admired; he always saw the good in everyone he met and was incapable of seeing the bad even if he faced it head-on. There were times as he was growing up that Darcy found himself exasperated with this but he eventually gave up trying to make his father see otherwise when he realized that it was pointless. Bingley was the same type of man his father had been and it was not the first time that he realized this was probably a factor in his friendship with him. Both his father and his friend entered every new situation expecting to be pleased and they were never disappointed. Darcy found that when he came of age and was more familiar with the ways of the world and the men who inhabited it that this was a very rare trait; he learned to value it and attempted to emulate it. But he knew upon self examination that though he could control what he did, he simply could not control how he felt. After his father died he continued to support the many charities that his father had funded and had striven hard to be a fair and generous employer to all who worked for him. But his motivation for these kindnesses was different from his father's motivation, and he felt it keenly. What he wanted to be seemed painfully elusive and he feared he would never be the man his father was. He was absolutely drained when he finished speaking and closed his eyes and leaned back against the corner of the carriage. For a long time there was silence and he was surprised to realize that he very much wanted to know Catherine's reaction to the things he had told her. He needed her to sooth him after he had disclosed so many painful details; he needed confirmation that she did indeed understand him.

"Well?"

She paused. What she wanted to say would be difficult for him to hear. "It makes me sad to know that this is your wish. I don't think what you want is possible and I don't think you will ever be happy until you realize why that is so."

This was not what he expected to hear from her and most definitely not what he wanted to be true.

"How can you say that to me after I have told you how important this is to me? Do you know how difficult it has been for me to tell you these things? I would never have done so if I had known how cruel your response would be!"

"William, if Elizabeth came to you and said that the one thing she wanted most in the world was to be like Jane what would you tell her?"

He had been so offended by her initial response that it took him a while to absorb this. When he did he was struck by her analogy and how closely the differences between Jane and Elizabeth resembled the differences between his father and himself. He had thought this through for many years – the ways his father had lived and behaved and his own inability to ever live up to this standard. And with one simple sentence his wife revealed what she had seen that he never had; one's fundamental character could not be altered but deeds could be replicated regardless of their wellspring. He could be a man worthy of being his father's son but he could never be his father. The way his father viewed the world was at the heart of what he was and what he had done, but Darcy had never viewed the world that way, and he knew he never would. Catherine was right; he needed to put aside his longing to be his father or he would never be happy.

Kitty had been anxiously watching his face and saw his expression gradually change from offended to thoughtful to resigned. He smiled at her then, a rueful smile but a smile nonetheless, and reached for her hand across the carriage.

"I think you are a witch and you have the second sight. I've thought so in the past and now I'm convinced of it. I have been to university, have made the grand tour of Europe, and have read enough philosophy to bore the average man to death. But I never saw this and I never would have. Jane's view of the world is very different from Elizabeth's; Jane believes everyone is wonderful and life is good. Not in a million years could Elizabeth be like her but that doesn't lessen her worth.I can never be my father, but I can strive to be as good a man as he was."

The carriage was silent for a long time after that; Darcy had much to think on and Kitty knew it and was content to look out the window and marvel at how the landscape differed from that of Hertfordshire. When Darcy spoke it startled her and she turned her full attention to him with a smile.

"And what about you? What would be your wish?"

_I would wish that you loved me _was her first thought and she was shocked when she realized the truth of it. But of course she could never tell him such a thing and her face flushed a deep red as she turned away from him to look out the window once more.

He laughed, never suspecting that he could be the subject of her wish. "Oh, my. I can see that you want something very interesting indeed. I'm looking forward to hearing what it is. Does my little witch want a new cauldron? A new broom, perhaps? Come, you must confide in me. Maybe my response to your wish will be as insightful as yours was to mine."

"There is something that for years I have thought would be absolutely wonderful, but it could never be, at least not in this world. But if I tell you I'm afraid you will laugh at me."

He could see that her wish was as serious as his had been and he instantly sobered. "I promise I will not laugh at you. I promise. And I will try to understand, as you did with me."

"Very well, I will tell you, but you must keep your promise. When things were just too difficult at Longbourn, and I felt I couldn't bear it a moment longer, I would escape outside for a walk. One spring several years ago I came upon a goose's nest by a pond in the far corner of our land. I don't know what you call this type of goose but we have always called them grey legs. I was very still, and very quiet, and she let me approach quite close to her nest. From that day on I came every day for I wanted to see her goslings when they hatched. One day the weather turned cold and when I saw her she was huddling very low in her nest. And as I watched one small yellow head peeked out from under her and looked at me; it was there for just a moment and then disappeared once again to where it would be warm and safe. So now, whenever I am hurt by something or someone, I think that I want to be that gosling. I want to be where it is warm and safe and have someone watch over me as that mother goose was watching over her."

Darcy was at a loss for words. How could he respond to such heartfelt longing? He really didn't know what to say, but she was watching him with an expectant expression, and he knew he had to say something. "That is a beautiful wish, Catherine, and I would never laugh at you for wanting such a thing. I know that there have been times in my life when I have felt that way too but I could never have put it into words such as you have."

He then leaned forward, cupped her face gently in his hands, and kissed her softly. "I hope you will feel like that gosling some day. I hope you will feel warm and safe. And I hope that I will be the one to make you feel that way." He kissed her again and then sat back on the carriage seat. He realized with chagrin what he was doing; he was courting his own wife and that morning he had actually been flirting with her! It all seemed so out of sequence to him. The flirting and the courtship should be what _preceded_ marriage and not the reverse. He ruefully had to admit to himself that there was no hope for it; he wanted her good opinion, he wanted to see her smile at him, and he wanted the intimacy with her that all courting couples sought. Nothing had been conventional in their relationship so far; why in the world would he ever expect it to be so now?

They were approaching the sea and the carriage was filled with the scent of salt air. Kitty's excitement was palpable and when they arrived and entered the main sitting room of the manor and she saw that the entire wall facing the sea was glass windows she fairly danced with excitement. The sound of the pounding waves filled the room and as the two of them stood at the window Darcy found himself envious of her unabashed joy in something so simple. He very much doubted he had ever felt that way and for the first time wished it were otherwise. He lived in the world of the intellect – of words and ideas, of thoughts and concepts. And until he met Catherine he had never felt anything wanting but now he wondered if perhaps he was missing some fundamental truth that she knew and he did not. He knew that his wife was intelligent but her intelligence was not what determined the way she viewed her world and those around her. He had seen it in the carriage when he spoke of his father; she was attentive to his words but her primary focus was on his face, the way he moved his hands when he became agitated, and the very manner of how he was sitting. And he realized then that her world was so much more intangible than his and that his years at Cambridge and the hundreds of books that he had read could never give him the insight that she had. She felt things deeply and allowed her intuition to guide her in all she did. Darcy had been joking when he called her a witch but there did at times seem to be something otherworldly about her. He felt there was another more spiritual reality that guided her and that the truth she knew was beyond the ability of mere words to describe.

Darcy was so lost in thought that she had to speak to him several times before he realized the tea service was in the room. He watched her as she prepared his tea and felt that he had never really seen her before. Kitty became aware of the intensity of his gaze and questioned him about it.

"Why are you staring at me? Have I a smudge on my nose?"

"I was just thinking about how very different we are."

"Yes, I noticed that a long time ago. But I rather like it, the way you differ from me. I like to imagine that in time I will come to know the you that others never will. That all the hidden secret places in you I will be able to find and explore at my leisure."

"And what if I don't want you to find these hidden places? What if I consider them mine, and mine alone?"

"Then I would be very sorry for it. For I have no hidden places that I would ever keep from you."

He knew this to be true and the certainty of it filled him with a quiet joy. And she knew him well enough to not expect a reply to this bold statement and he didn't give one. They separated soon after, repairing to their separate rooms to bathe and rest and dress for the evening meal. The Matlocks always kept country hours when they lived at the manor and the meals were simple and hearty. Supper was served an hour earlier than usual and had only two courses – a thick stew with bread followed by rice pudding for dessert. Darcy and Kitty were both silent during the meal and when they had finished and returned to the sitting room they still did not speak. There was an air of expectancy that seemed to permeate the room and they were both acutely aware of it. The weather had turned bitterly cold and even the heavy stone walls of the manor could not entirely keep out the wind and the sound of the waves pounding the beach. They sat together on the sofa facing the fireplace and the only light in the room came from its bright flames. Both felt that no words were necessary after the day that they had spent together but if they had spoken they would have found that their thoughts were remarkably similar. Kitty felt that she had never been happier and hoped that the lack of reserve displayed by her husband the entire day was a sign of better things to come in their relationship. She knew the type of man she had married; she knew how very unusual it was for him to let down his guard and be as open as he had been with her on this day. Darcy was also reflecting on the pleasures this day had brought and he too felt that only good could come of this new closeness. But the coldness of the room caused him to move nearer to his wife and gently pull her into his arms to warm them both and other thoughts quickly arose unbidden in his mind.

Through the years Darcy had a tendency to focus on a particular subject and to explore all avenues of research concerning this particular subject. One of the things he had studied was the relationship between a man and a woman and he felt that he was as aware as a man could be of what it entailed and what was expected of him as the dominant partner. He and Edmund and Richard had frequently compared information as they had gleaned it; he had read every book he could find on the subject, and he had listened carefully to the men at his club when they discussed this topic. He had thoughtfully considered all that he had learned, and gradually a plan had evolved in his mind of what he would do, the order in which he would do it, and the restraints that would be required of him. He had heard the unhappy comments of other men at White's – tales of wives with headaches and tiredness and all variety of excuses. And he had listened carefully to the details of wedding nights that had failed miserably for both parties – for the husbands it represented a night of bitter disappointment, and for the wives a night of awkwardness and pain and a flight to their own rooms in tears. But Darcy also noted some other husbands in the room, the ones who were silent, and who were unable to repress barely detectible smiles and just a hint of smug satisfaction. He determined that when the time came he would be one of these men and he had a very specific agenda of the things he would do and what his behavior would be.

This plan began to unravel when Kitty turned in his arms with no hesitation and for the first time in his life he felt the incredible softness of a woman's body against his own. And when he began to kiss her, and knew the sweetness of her response, he was a lost man. His habitual reliance on his knowledge, on the intellect that had until this time been his primary source of guidance, gave way to a complete immersion in the sensual, and all rational thought eluded him for several hours. He took her hand and led her up the stairs to the door of her room. He kissed her again, and asked, "Will you come to me?" She nodded, and when she came to his room he was standing in front of a roaring fire in his fireplace. She went into his arms without a word but she could not control her trembling and he simply held her for a while and murmured soft words that calmed and reassured her.

Afterward, he held her close and found that once again he was capable of rational thought. He knew what he had experienced, and was reasonably sure that he could not have mistaken his wife's response to what they had shared, but he needed to know for sure. He knew that at one point he had hurt her, he had heard her soft cry of pain, and he wanted to know what she was thinking.

"Kitty, are you well? Is there anything that you need now? Please, tell me what is going through your mind."

"I'm well, William. You needn't worry."

"But I _am_ worried. You seemed so unsure when you first came to me; I could feel you trembling. Were you afraid of me – afraid of what would happen between us?"

"Oh no, never that. You mustn't think that. It was something else…I really can't speak of it. Please don't ask me to tell you. It's just too difficult for me."

She could feel rather than hear his soft laughter as his chest rose and fell under her cheek. "My dear, perhaps it has escaped your notice, but you _are_ lying naked in my arms. Don't you think that the time for modesty is long past?"

She had to acknowledge the justice of this, but it was still difficult for her to say what had been troubling her. "When my mother spoke to me of these things, she was very explicit about what would happen and what you would do. But when it actually came to it…..I thought…I feared…..she had never said what _I_ should do - what you would expect of me. And I suddenly realized that I didn't know what to do…...what you wanted from me. And I was so afraid that I would disappoint you….. that I didn't know how to please you."

"Kitty, give me your hand." When she did he placed it over his heart, where she could feel the still rapid heartbeats. "Do you feel that? Do you know what it means? Kitty, if you had pleased me any more you would have been a widow before you were ever truly a wife."

"Truly?"

"Truly. I don't know if a man has yet been born who could lie to a woman when he holds her as I am now holding you, but I do know that _I_ am not such a man."

They were silent then for a while, and he gently traced a path along her arm from her shoulder to her hands. He couldn't stop himself from touching her; he couldn't stop remembering what he had felt when his mouth and fingers first knew the sensation of touching her skin. He realized then that part of the magic for him on this night was that all five of his senses had been acutely aware of what was happening between them. There was a point early on when he could feel the change in Kitty's body when she began to live in a world of pure sensation and she was letting her body respond as it would. From that time on he became so attuned to her responses that the softest sigh could not escape him. Even in a room that was only lit by firelight he could see the deep flush on her face and the expression of awe that she made no attempt to hide from him.

Kitty was having pleasant thoughts at this time also, but if he had asked her what they were she would never have told him. Her thoughts were twofold – that the reserve her husband had maintained in every other aspect of his life did not carry over into their bedroom, and that she had found something that she could contribute to this marriage that was very important to him. That he was a passionate man she had never doubted but she had feared his nature was such that he could never give free rein to that passion. But he certainly had this evening. The knowledge of what he had so obviously felt led to her next source of happiness. She had always been keenly aware of the fact that she had brought little to this marriage. But now she saw that indeed there was something that she could give to him and it had been shown to her quite clearly this evening exactly how important it was to him. It was a heady feeling for her – a feeling of power knowing that it was she, and only she, who was capable of giving him the joy of this intimacy.

"Kitty, are you still awake?"

"Hmmm…yes I am, and having very happy thoughts."

"As am I. But I was wondering something. What else did your mother tell you about this night? I have heard several times that most brides look forward to their wedding nights with abject terror. But you didn't seem to; what exactly did she tell you about what would happen?"

"She said that I was fortunate - that you seemed to be the kind of man who would be gentle and patient. And she said that I should let you take the lead – that you would know what to do. As for the rest, she explained it but I already knew that part; I did grow up on a farm, you know. And I must say I wasn't really very concerned about it; I knew _you _would _never _behave in such a shocking manner."

She could again feel Darcy's chest rise and fall as he laughed. "It must have come as quite a surprise to you to discover that I _could_ behave in such a shocking way. But I must say…you didn't seem to mind it too much at the time…."

"No, I didn't mind at all. I was busy planning the menu for a dinner party we would have when we return to London and I was also thinking of whom I would invite."

"What!?"

Kitty began laughing and couldn't stop for a long time. She was finding that teasing her husband was a very enjoyable pastime.

"I was simply following the advice of several of the old biddies from Meryton. They had quite an extensive list of things that a wife could think about when her husband has his wicked way with her."

At this, Darcy joined her in laughter. "Yes, I do have very wicked ways and I look forward to showing you exactly how wicked I can be. I know precisely what to do and I'm hoping that you continue to follow your mother's advice and let me lead the way." He could feel her body stiffen when he said this, and he couldn't imagine what he had said that upset her. "Kitty, what is it? What did I say? You know I would never hurt you, that saying I would be wicked with you is just an expression."

"It isn't that, not at all. I know you were joking about that. But it bothered me at the time when my mother said that you would know what to do and I saw tonight that you _did _know what to do. You were so sure of everything, and…..well….I guess I don't really know what I am trying to say."

"But I think _I_ know what you are trying to say. You were wondering how I knew these things, weren't you?" He wrapped both his arms around her and drew her more closely to his side. "And you were thinking that perhaps some other woman had spent a night with me like the one we have just shared. Is this what you were trying to tell me?"

When she didn't reply he decided to answer the question that she would not ask. "I will tell you a story and then you will know if your fears are groundless or not. When I was young a fair came to Lambton one summer, a very large fair, and the Matlock family had come to Pemberley so that we could all enjoy it. I don't remember what ages my cousins and I were but I do know we were old enough to have a certain fascination with one subject in particular, as I imagine all young boys do at that age, and we spent an inordinate amount of time discussing it. Well, one day Edmund, Richard, and I rode into Lambton after speaking with our parents and agreeing to meet them at a certain time in one of the food tents for supper. The three of us had a wonderful time for several hours and at one point we were surrounded by a bevy of attractive young girls and we were flirting outrageously with them. We were very pleased with ourselves and positively basking in all the attention we were getting. Suddenly my father and Uncle Matlock appeared and sternly ordered us to return to Pemberley immediately and meet them in my father's study. We had an anxious ride home trying to figure out what mischief we had been caught in this time. We were always up to something, but try as we might we couldn't figure out what our offense could be."

"When we entered my father's study both he and my uncle were there and for an hour they took turns lecturing us. And I'm sure you have heard the expression that someone's hair stood on end? Well, if that phenomenon were truly possible the three of us would have experienced it. We had never heard of the French Pox until that day but I can assure you that after that afternoon it figured very prominently in our nightmares for quite some time. My uncle even used an example of someone we all knew who had recently died and who, unbeknownst to us, had died of this disease. It was impressed upon us quite forcibly that he had never been able to have children as a result of it, that the man had suffered terribly before he died, and that he had infected his wife who was at the present time dying of the same ailment. One point both my father and uncle made quite stridently was that there was a popular misconception that this was solely a disease of bawdy houses. They emphasized that any woman we consorted with could infect us and that some women could harbor the disease for years and not even be aware of it. When we were excused the three of us went up to my room and for a long time we couldn't even speak. I was imagining, as I'm sure they were also, the pretty girls we had been so happily flirting with just hours earlier and how any one of them could mean a death sentence for us. We were truly miserable; I recall that Edmund was even in tears. Richard and I were made of sterner stuff, and we finally all took a vow that we would never be with a woman until we were married. And I have kept that vow, Kitty, and if I seemed to know what I was doing earlier, it was solely due to the same instinct that has guided men since Adam first held Eve in his arms."

Kitty raised her face to his to kiss him for sharing this with her. She had meant it to be a simple kiss of thanks, but it soon became something else, and it was not until the wee hours of the morning that the lovers finally fell asleep in each other's arms.

The next morning Kitty was disappointed to awaken and find herself alone in the bed. Then she noticed one white rose and a folded note on the pillow next to her head. She had observed when they first entered the manor the day before that Lady Matlock had sent with her servants several vases of the roses that had been displayed during her dinner party. This rose must be one of them, and when she opened the note it contained just three words that filled her with happiness, "Good morning, wife." When she entered the breakfast room Darcy wasn't present but he came in for a cup of coffee when she had almost finished her meal. She found herself blushing a deep red and when he saw it she could tell it amused him to see her so embarrassed.

"Did you sleep well last night, Catherine?"

Kitty smiled. Two could play this game. Last night she had been 'Kitty' but now she was 'Catherine' again. "Why yes, I did. A very pleasant sleep. Although I did find myself awakening several times with _very_ strange dreams. And how was your night, Mr. Darcy?"

They were both aware that the servants were occasionally entering the room to replenish the tea and coffee pots on the sideboard and Darcy knew he would have to choose his words with care. "That's interesting, Catherine, I too had some very vivid dreams, very vivid indeed."

"Vivid, but not unpleasant I hope, Mr. Darcy?"

"Oh no, definitely not unpleasant. Quite the contrary. In fact, I hope tonight I will again be having the same vivid dreams."

Kitty's face again flushed bright red and she found herself unable to reply to him. Seeing this, he decided it was best that a new topic be introduced into their conversation. "Would you like to take a walk along the beach this morning? It's quite cold but I think I recall that your doting husband bought you a full-length fur coat for just such occasions."

They walked along the shore for several hours. Kitty was very excited and reveled in the sights and smells that until this time she had only imagined and Darcy was happy just to observe her. When they returned to the manor Kitty went to the main sitting room to read one of the books that Darcy had purchased for her the previous week and was surprised when he joined her with a sheaf of letters from Pemberley's steward that he had brought with him from Darcy House. He could have worked in the Earl's study but found he was loathe to forgo the pleasure of his wife's company. They spoke but seldom yet both were content just to be together. The rest of the day passed in this pleasant manner and when Kitty fell asleep on the sofa after tea Darcy abandoned all attempts at his correspondence and simply watched her. When night came they once again spent it enjoying the joys that their new-found intimacy entailed.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Kitty rose early the next morning in order to have breakfast with Darcy. While they were eating the mail came and both received several letters. Darcy's were mostly concerning Pemberley but Kitty had letters from Elizabeth and Lady Matlock. She opened the last one first and when she did an enclosed note fell out on the table. Darcy looked up when it did and immediately recognized the handwriting of his cousin Richard. His face darkened with anger and he held out his hand for Kitty to give him the note.

"May I?"

The note was short and straightforward. Richard thanked her for her letter granting him forgiveness for what had happened, acknowledged her invitation to join them at Folkestone, and informed her that he would leave London at daybreak on Friday and probably arrive some time around noon.

"When did you write to Richard and invite him here?" Darcy's voice was ominously soft when he began speaking but by the time he finished he was shouting at her.

"No! I don't want to hear what you will say! I know you will say things that you will later regret and that will break my heart to hear. I really can't bear it now after all that has happened. I really can't bear it!" With this, Kitty burst into tears and quickly left the room. Soon afterward Darcy saw her walking along the beach.

Darcy was so furious with her that all he could do was pace back and forth in the sitting room. Had they not agreed that their relationship with Richard was to be a joint decision? He was not ready to see his cousin yet and now she intended to force this meeting on him. He had observed Richard's attentions to his wife whenever they met and now these attentions took on a whole new meaning. It must be that Richard was jealous of him, jealous of his relationship with his wife, and the more his cousin saw of Kitty the more he desired her for himself. And perhaps Kitty was aware of this and encouraging it! Maybe the last two nights and what had originally seemed so spontaneous was actually an attempt on her part to manipulate her husband so that he would forgive Richard and that would allow Kitty to see him once again.

This last thought gave him pause and he realized that his volatile temper had led him to consider things that were truly despicable and most assuredly not true. He continued pacing but began to calm down and to reconsider the direction that his thoughts had taken. It took a long while but he was finally willing to admit that Catherine was correct in assuming that he would have said these things to her if she had been present and he would have regretted them the moment they were spoken.

Kitty didn't return for almost two hours and when she did she marched into the sitting room and stood in front of his chair with a determined look on her face.

"You, sir, are an idiot."

"Yes, I agree."

"I know what you were thinking, and let me repeat, you are an idiot."

"That goes without saying; in fact, I wish it _had_ gone without saying."

"Your cousin was surprised, as were your aunt and uncle I might add, by who you married. But Richard has tried on every occasion that we have met to get to know me and to show his approval of me. And anyone who thinks otherwise, who thinks there could possibly be an ulterior motive for his kindness, is an ass."

"Yes, most definitely, an ass."

"And perhaps you should consider that your uncle called me 'beautiful.' I assume that means he is also enamored of me?"

By this point Darcy could not help smiling. "It crossed my mind."

"And Richard's pursuit of Elizabeth? You think that is all part of a plot to enable him to have access to me?"

"Yes, certainly, part of a plot."

"You are fortunate that I did not hear these words from you, sir. But I do know you were thinking them and let me advise you to reconsider. You are not the only one who has a formidable temper when angered. Let me repeat, sir, for just _thinking_ these things, you are an idiot."

Darcy had heard enough and rose from his chair to take her in his arms. "You are absolutely right; I am both an idiot and an ass. And though it doesn't seem fair somehow that I must apologize for thoughts that remained unspoken, I do apologize for them none-the-less."

Darcy then proceeding to show her exactly _how _sorry he was and they spent the rest of the day enjoying the many ways that he could employ to illustrate his contrition. In the early twilight they were lying together in their bed and almost asleep when Kitty gently touched his face. "William?"

"Mmmph."

"Shall I tell you something else that my mother told me the eve before our wedding? Since then I have wondered if it could possibly be true."

"And what was that?"

"She told me that if a woman ever wanted something from her husband, especially something that she was afraid he wasn't inclined to grant her, that this is the time to request it of him."

Darcy moaned and shifted his position so that he held her even more tightly. "Yes, your mother has the right of it, my dear. There could never be a better time than this. Right now if someone handed me the deed to Pemberley I would happily sign it over in your name." Silence followed this statement until Darcy finally said, "Well? What is it that you want? Surely you had something in mind when you spoke to me of this."

"I think you must know what I want."

The room was quiet for quite some time and Kitty held her breath until Darcy asked, "Richard?"

She could feel his quickened heartbeat under her cheek but was relieved that his voice didn't sound angry. "Yes."

Again there was a long pause before he spoke. "Well, I would hate to think that your mother has led you astray. And I must say that I am inclined to grant your request. But I must also say that I'm not quite convinced; I think I may need a bit of persuasion before I agree. Do you have any ideas concerning how I might be persuaded to consent to this?"

"Oh William, I can be very persuasive, as you shall soon see."

Some time later, as they were finally drifting off to sleep, Darcy whispered softly to her, "Your mother is a very wise woman." Her response was a sleepy giggle and they were both smiling when they fell asleep.

The next morning, after they had breakfasted, Darcy took Kitty by the hand, led her to the sitting room, and sat next to her on the sofa. "Catherine, there is something that I have wanted to tell you but there just didn't seem to be the right moment. Do you recall when Lady Marianne commented at my aunt's party that you were not wearing the Darcy jewels?"

When she nodded, Darcy could see by her face that it was something she had thought on and worried about.

"My mother's jewelry is in a safe at Pemberley. I should have removed them and given them to you before our wedding but it never even occurred to me to do so. That is why you do not have them yet. All of them are yours now, as my wife, and as soon as we are at Pemberley I will give them to you."

"I never even thought of them until Lady Marianne made that comment. I must confess that I came to the worst possible conclusion about your failure to give them to me but I felt I just couldn't ask you about it in case my suspicions were correct."

"I wish you would feel that you could ask me about anything."

Kitty smiled. "Well, knowing now that you feel that way, I _will_ ask you about something. What do you mean to do when Richard comes today?"

"I will receive him as warmly as I can and then see what happens. I will treat him as I always have."

"Always have _before_ you married me, or always have _after_ you married me? There is a very decided difference, you know."

"I don't understand what you are asking me."

"I feel very strongly that _I_ am the reason that you and Richard are at odds with each other." Darcy began to protest but she silenced him. "Yes, it is true, and if you think back to when all this started you will realize it, too. That is part of the reason that I so very much want you two to be friends again. I think I know one thing that we can do to foster this; we should tell him the circumstances that led to our marriage. You have told me that through the years he is the one person that you have always confided in. He must resent the fact that you have withheld the details of our marriage from him, any friend would. And if you agree, and I hope you do, we should also tell him that he may relate the entire story to your aunt and uncle and Georgiana."

Darcy was silent and considering her words when she spoke again. "I think you should know that when your aunt and Georgiana were with me when I was being measured for my new gowns they both saw the scar on my chest. It was not yet healed and they must have surmised that it is related to our marriage. I know we agreed to keep the details to ourselves but I think now that these four people should be told the truth. If we tell Richard that will ensure that the others will soon know also."

"There is no 'we'. _I_ will tell my cousin, as I probably should have long ago. I think you are correct in this; I certainly would have resented it if he had been married under very irregular circumstances and didn't confide in me about it. Once again, my dear wife, you have managed to see things that for all my supposed learning I have missed entirely."

He kissed her then and one thing led to another until they were both startled when one of the housemaids knocked on the sitting room door to tell them that the colonel had arrived. Kitty looked anxiously at Darcy but he gave her a reassuring smile and said, "I promised you last night, remember? And I _never _break my promises."

When Richard entered the room he bowed to Kitty first but hesitated before addressing his cousin. Darcy could see his nervousness and assumed, quite correctly, that the colonel would leave immediately if he was not made welcome by both of them. He held out his hand and when Richard took it he shook it firmly.

"I am happy that you have come, Richard. There are many things that we need to discuss."

Kitty ordered tea and as they ate and drank the tension in the room was palpable. As soon as they were finished Kitty rose from her chair. "I have some letters I need to write and I hope you will both excuse me. I will join you again for lunch." In order to leave the room she had to pass behind Darcy's chair. She reached out and gently ran one of her fingers across the back of his neck. He didn't flinch, but he felt her touch, and she knew it.

When Kitty left the room Darcy immediately turned to face his cousin. "Richard, there are things that I need to tell you, things that I should have told you long ago. And I want you to know that I am sorry now that I didn't. At the time these things happened I felt quite keenly that I was at fault for something that both Catherine and I would pay for all of our lives. So we decided, and the rest of her family agreed, to keep the details that led to our engagement a secret. But I feel that I must tell you now and I hope that when you return to London you will share this with your parents and Georgiana. I don't want it to go any further than that and when you hear the details you will know why." Darcy then began a recitation to his cousin of what had occurred the previous fall.

Darcy had arrived at Netherfield the first week of October with plans to help Bingley accustom himself to being an estate owner for the first time. He was in a foul mood before he even arrived; he had attempted to see Georgiana twice before he left and each time she had refused to see him. And then there was the prospect of being under the same roof with Miss Bingley. For over four years she had been doggedly obvious in her attempts to become the Mistress of Pemberley, and lately her endeavors had become so overt that even easy-going Bingley had been forced to advise her to curb her persistence. She had ignored him, of course, and was convinced that Darcy's seeming indifference was due to his innate shyness. The assembly in Meryton that he had attended the previous evening had been an unmitigated disaster. He had managed to insult and alienate a goodly portion of the attendants and he knew it. The morning after the assembly he had arisen early, had his horse Juno saddled, and took off across the countryside at breakneck speed in the hopes of dispelling disquieting thoughts about Georgiana, Miss Bingley, and his uncharacteristic rudeness at the local assembly. He raced aimlessly across the countryside with a vague intention of summiting Oakham Mount, a local elevation that rose two hundred feet above the surrounding countryside. Bingley had mentioned it on their journey to Netherfield and had described it as relatively easy to access on foot or horseback on three sides but with an almost vertical incline on the southern boundary. Darcy and Juno raced up the eastern pathway and both were startled to see a lone woman at the top; the woman was equally surprised by their sudden appearance. Juno reared up on his hind legs, almost unseating Darcy, and with a cry the woman tumbled backward off the edge of the southern precipice. It took Darcy several minutes to calm Juno enough to dismount, and when he looked over the side he was horrified to see a lifeless body wedged against an enormous boulder about halfway down the incline. He managed to finally reach her by clinging to rocks and scrub bushes that clung to the side of the mount and saw immediately that she was seriously injured. All of the skin on the side of her face where she had come to rest against the boulder was scraped off and there was a huge lump on her forehead at the point of impact.

The most worrisome wound was just below her left shoulder and was seeping blood at an alarming rate. Her pelisse above the wound was torn open through to her skin and he suspected this cut had been made when she collided with one of the many jagged rocks along the path of her descent. She was unconscious, and as he lifted her in his arms he kept his left hand pressed just above her heart in an attempt to stem the blood flow. His ascent was hampered by the steepness of the incline, and he finally had to resort to carrying her along a horizontal path until he could reach the eastern side of the prominence and continue up that side. There he whistled for Juno, and with a struggle to maintain pressure on her wound as he attempted to mount, he was finally able secure both of them and ride, as quickly as he felt was safe, for her home. He had recognized her as one of the Bennet girls that he had been introduced to at the Meryton assembly, although he had no idea of her name. He recalled seeing farm labourers gathering the last of the late hay crop when he had raced to Oakham Mount and made his way to that area in order to have one of them fetch the local apothecary to come with all haste to the Bennet estate. He did so, was assured by the horrified workers that they would depart immediately in order to fetch medical assistance, and turned his horse toward Longbourn.

Mr. Bennet was sitting at his desk, which faced the front of the house, and was the first to reach Darcy when he rode up the drive with his unconscious burden. He was immediately followed by the entire Bennet household and for several minutes absolute chaos reigned. Darcy saw that it was hopeless to expect that any of them would be able to be of material help and as a result he spoke more harshly than he intended.

"Miss Bennet fell from Oakham Mount and has been seriously wounded. The apothecary has been summoned and should be arriving shortly. For now, you will be no help to her if you continue to behave in this manner. I need someone to apply firm pressure to this wound just above her heart while at least two others carefully remove her from my horse. I will be able to carry her into the house but I need assistance in order to dismount."

Kitty, for he had heard her name mentioned in the first exclamations of horror by her sisters, was slowly removed from in front of him while he kept a tight rein on Juno. He dismounted and was further dismayed to find that not only was the entire front of his waistcoat covered in blood but that his pant leg was quite bloody also, giving testament to the fact that she was wounded in yet another area of her body. He took her from Mr. Bennet's arms and followed the girls as they led him into the front hall and then up the stairs to her room. A quick examination showed him the source of the additional bleeding; Kitty had a long jagged wound on the shin of her left leg that was filled with dirt, leaves and other debris. When Darcy positioned her on the bed he instructed two of the sisters to apply pressure to this section of her leg and another to continue applying pressure to her shoulder area. His orders were promptly followed, but just as he felt that the situation was reasonably under control until the apothecary arrived, Kitty began to shake, gently at first and then violently. The loss of blood had caused her to go into shock and Darcy began issuing orders to light as many fireplaces as possible and quickly heat every blanket they could procure to wrap around her. This was done, and Darcy had the satisfaction of seeing her shaking diminish somewhat.

He could think of nothing further to do and they spoke quietly amongst themselves as they anxiously awaited the arrival of apothecary. He was able to sort out the girls by this time. Jane was the eldest and he recalled that Bingley had singled her out for particular attention the previous evening. Elizabeth was the second oldest, and as he saw how she attempted to calm her sisters and render as much help as possible, he recalled with chagrin how he had insulted her at the assembly by refusing to dance with her. Mary seemed the most collected of them all and it was her that he chose to apply pressure to Kitty's chest wound. The youngest, Lydia, was so upset and tearful that he was glad her task was to heat blankets in several rooms and so she was kept busy and away from the distressing sight of her wounded sister. Mr. Bennet simply paced back and forth on the far side of the room with his hands clasped behind his back. Mrs. Bennet had retreated to her upstairs sitting room and her hysterical lamentations concerning the effect of this event on her nerves convinced Darcy that she would be of no material assistance in aiding her injured daughter.

A heavy pounding on the entrance door of Longbourn raised everyone's hopes that it was the apothecary at last and Mr. Bennet and Darcy quickly went down the stairs to greet him. The man at the door, however, was one of the labourers that had been sent to fetch medical help. The man explained that he had spoken to the apothecary's wife and found that he was visiting his mother who resided some thirty miles away and he was not expected to return for at least two days. At this news, the spirits of both men plummeted; Mr. Bennet's because he was at a complete loss as to what to do next, and Darcy's because he knew only too well what needed to be done. Darcy's estate, Pemberley, employed many workers doing a multitude of tasks, and in the course of normal estate life, it was inevitable that several times a year one of the workers was injured during a time when the Lambton apothecary was away from his office and not available. And so over the years Darcy had become quite proficient at cleaning and bandaging cuts and scrapes, stitching up wounds, and even, occasionally, setting broken bones. He knew that the danger of infection for Kitty increased as the minutes passed and that the only way to impede the loss of blood was to stitch her wounds. He explained this to a shaken Mr. Bennet and attempted to reassure him as to his doctoring abilities, but also requested a pen and some paper so that he could send an express rider to London to fetch Dr. Rushton, his own personal physician. He wrote a quick note to one of the Pemberley coachmen who had accompanied him to Netherfield, explained the urgency of the situation, and instructed him to ride as quickly as possible to deliver the enclosed letter to his physician in London.

As Darcy ascended the stair with Mr. Bennet he was deep in thought compiling a mental list of all he would need to assist Kitty and fervently hoping that Longbourn contained at least some of them. He knew that the sisters, although displaying admirable fortitude until this time, would be sorely tried by what was required of them in the next several hours if they were to help him. With this in mind, he addressed them as soon as he entered the bedroom.

"The Meryton apothecary is visiting his mother in a distant town and will not return for two days. I have sent an express to London requesting my own physician to come as soon as possible to Longbourn but there is no way that he will arrive before early morning at the soonest. Kitty needs assistance _now_, and I have had some little experience ministering to Pemberley employees who were injured in similar ways. I cannot do this alone, however, and I need the help of some of you to aid me in tending her and keeping me supplied with the items I will need to do so."

He looked at each sister in turn and was pleased to see four resolute expressions and four chins raised with a determination to do whatever was necessary to aid their sister. Hill also nodded, and Darcy sensed that the housekeeper was a woman who could be relied upon to work without faltering. Mr. Bennet also stepped forward to volunteer but he was so obviously shaken by the morning's events that Darcy was hesitant to request his assistance.

Once Darcy was assured that he had adequate help to begin his task he began issuing orders and requests for supplies at a rapid pace and all six occupants of the room scurried to comply. Hill was dispatched to acquire what he needed in order to clean the wounds and coat them later with a substance that would deter infection. He had had enough experience to know that clean hands, instruments, and careful vigilance by the medical attendant in applying cleansing lotions to the wounds vastly increased the chances that the patient could avoid infection and its attendant fevers. He felt that although Mr. Bennet seemed eager to assist, if he remained in the sickroom there was a very good chance that he would collapse and require assistance himself. So Darcy requested that he aid Hill in the stillroom, larder and kitchen to assemble numerous items that he would require in order to commence. Hill nodded at each request and he knew that each of the items was readily available or soon could be.

He had already considered Mary the calmest of the sisters and was pleased to see she was more than willing to remain close beside him and assist in any way necessary. For the time being he had her remain at her post applying a steady pressure to Kitty's chest wound until he had the supplies he required in order to begin stitching. He asked Elizabeth to continue applying pressure to the gash in Kitty's leg but instructed Jane to find several other things that he hoped might be found in one of the girl's sewing baskets. He needed a thin round needle, dark silk thread, tweezers, and a supply of clean cheesecloth or muslin to prepare poultices from the supplies that Hill and Mr. Bennet were collecting. Lydia, like Mr. Bennet, was so overwrought that she was potentially a liability rather than an aide. Keeping her busy and away from the sickroom seemed the best option and so she was put in charge of tending several of the upstairs fireplaces and heating warm blankets to wrap them around her sister to impede shock. Darcy instructed her to be particularly mindful to keep her head, hands and feet well covered and warm.

It was not many minutes before Hill, Jane and Mr. Bennet arrived with all the items he had requested. He filled two basins with warm soapy water and positioned one by himself and one next to Elizabeth. Hill and Jane were instructed to prepare a compress that had been seeped in willow bark tea, allow it to cool somewhat, and then apply it to the swelling on Kitty's forehead. When that was completed they were to cover the scraped side of her face with a similar compress containing beeswax, yarrow and comfrey. When both compresses had been applied Jane was then free to assist Elizabeth, and they were instructed to wash their hands well in the soap basin and then to began removing, with the tweezers if necessary, the debris from Kitty's shin wound and to apply the beeswax salve mixture to the cleaned areas. It was a time-consuming task that required careful attention and as they worked they had to continue to apply pressure to the jagged wound to slow the leak of blood.

Darcy himself had commenced stitching the chest wound that was deep and extended for five inches from just below her shoulder blade to the top of her breast. He then proceeded to stitch her leg wound and was pleased to see that Jane and Elizabeth had done an admirable job in removing all the dirt and leaves that had been deeply embedded in it. Mary remained near him and seemed to anticipate what he needed even before he asked, wiping away excess blood, and holding the edges of skin together for his needle. Lydia set about her allotted task with a determined fervor and although Kitty continued to tremble and show evidence of shock, Darcy knew it would have been much more pronounced without Lydia's vigilance in keeping her well wrapped with warm blankets. Hill and Mr. Bennet assisted her and also frequently replenished the soapy water in both of the basins. The room was deathly quiet as each of its occupants gave their entire concentration to performing the task at hand. Darcy could not have asked for more dedicated assistants and for the first time he felt that all might be well. The fact that Kitty remained unconscious was troubling but he felt it was perhaps best considering how painful his ministrations would be for her if she was awake and aware of them.

Darcy had only paused once in the two hours that he was caring for Kitty's wounds. Mrs. Bennet's sitting room was directly across from the sickroom and while they were all working so feverously they were aware of a non-stop cacophony of complaints emanating from her room. She resented the fact that Hill was unavailable to tend to her and that her incessant demands were simply being ignored by all the occupants in the sickroom. She was suffering grievously from nerves and heart palpitations and she wanted someone to attend her. When her demands went unanswered she increased their volume and finally Darcy had had enough. He marched to her room, slammed back her partly opened door, and literally exploded in rage.

"Good God, woman, what kind of an unnatural mother are you? If you have no feelings for your own daughter could you at least have some compassion for those of us who are working so hard to preserve her life?"

Mr. Bennet had followed Darcy to the open door and wryly commented.

"You may as well speak to this wall as address her, sir. She has been a constant source of embarrassment to me for more years than I care to remember and I rue the day I ever laid eyes on her."

These admonitions had an immediate effect, and Mrs. Bennet, wide-eyed and gasping for breath, came as close to actually fainting as she ever had in her life. Their mission was successful though, and an ominous silence emanated from her sitting room during the rest of their endeavors. Neither gentleman could know the momentous effects that would result from these accusations in the years to come. The admonitions of Darcy and Mr. Bennet were keenly felt to an extent that they never could have imagined, and in its aftermath the very fabric of life in the Bennet household was dramatically changed, and, amazingly, even the inheritance entail that threatened to deprive them of their estate was permanently altered.

Darcy reentered Kitty's room expecting to find some indication from the sisters that he had offended them by his insulting remarks to their mother; indeed, he himself was already regretting the strident comments that he had made to her. This was not the case, however, and he had the distinct impression that in his absence he had been the topic of their conversation and that the result of his confrontation with their mother further augmented his status with them. They obviously viewed him as Kitty's savior, and perhaps he was in terms of his efforts at this time. But, he very much feared that when all the details were known to them concerning how she had become so seriously injured their admiration would quickly turn to derision. This pained him for several reasons. He had come to admire each of them for the affection they so obviously felt for their sister and the determination each of them displayed to aid him when it must have been incredibly difficult to do so when faced with the glaring evidence of her wounds. All formality had been done away with as they worked and they were all on a first name basis and comfortable with it. He also knew that his actions, both on Oakham Mount and in this sickroom, would result in them becoming, in the not too distant future, his sisters. He knew he needed to discuss this matter with Mr. Bennet and as soon as he had done all he could for Kitty's wellbeing he requested a private audience in his library.

Darcy's interview with Mr. Bennet was brief and to the point. He requested Kitty's hand in marriage and assured her father of his ability to not only provide for her in terms of materials things but that, as his wife, every attempt would be made to ensure her future happiness. If Mr. Bennet could not view the man in front of him as an eager suitor anxious to receive a blessing to unite himself with a woman he loved, neither could he fault Darcy for his obvious concern for his daughter's welfare and his determination to ensure her future comfort. His blessing and permission were readily given. It then remained Darcy's task to acquaint Mr. Bennet with the circumstances that had led to Kitty being hurt, and he did not hesitate to elaborate on each painful detail, and to acknowledge his own culpability in the affair. He related all that had transpired as accurately as he was able given his trepidation concerning Mr. Bennet's reaction to his confession. For he had no doubt, that if it was Georgiana who had been so seriously wounded, what _his _reaction would be to a man standing in front of _him_ and confessing that his carelessness had caused her injuries.

Mr. Bennet was silent for at least ten minutes after hearing this recitation – ten minutes that seemed like hours to Darcy. Finally Mr. Bennet responded, not with a judgment on his actions as Darcy had anticipated, but with numerous questions.

"Let me see if I rightly understand you. Before you even ascended Oakham Mount you were aware that they were several men in the near vicinity who were reaping hay. Is that correct?"

"Yes, sir, it is."

"And after you had seen that Kitty was lodged halfway down the incline you could have easily ridden your horse to these men, explained that she had fallen down the southern slope, and left it to them to retrieve her and escort her to Longbourn. Is that also correct? Did this ever cross your mind as a simple solution to the dilemma you found yourself in?"

Darcy could not disguise the indignation he felt that Mr. Bennet could even contemplate that he could be capable of such actions. "No, sir, this option _never_ occurred to me, nor would it to any man with even a modicum of honour!"

"I see. Well then, let us proceed with another scenario. When you had delivered Kitty to Longbourn and we were made aware of the fact that the apothecary would be unavailable for two days, why did you volunteer to stand in for him and take upon yourself the doctoring that should rightly have been his? You were under no obligation to do so, and you could have been content to simply send an express to your personal physician and leave it to him, when he finally arrived, to cope with whatever he found here. Did this eventuality never present itself to you? Your conscience would have been clear that you had procured the necessary help for Kitty, albeit a bit later than one would hope, and you could have returned to Netherfield, and eventually London, and put the whole unpleasant affair behind you."

"Once again, Mr. Bennet, I must object to your supposition that I would even consider such base actions, let alone act on them. You can have no idea, sir, of the man you are confronting when you make such insulting suggestions to me."

"Well then, let me tell _you _something, Mr. Darcy, concerning your own assessment of your character and your culpability for what has happened. It is obvious to me that you are consumed with guilt over this morning's events. Needlessly so, I might add. Yes, I will allow that you probably should not have ascended Oakham Mount at the speed that you did. And yes, you probably should have been able to more forcefully control your horse. But how in the world could you have anticipated that someone else would be on the summit when most people at that early hour were still in bed or had not yet even breakfasted? You are _not _to blame for the tragic events of this morning and the integrity which you have displayed here should make you proud rather than ashamed of your actions. If you harbor any suspicions that you have behaved in a less than honourable manner I feel I must inform you, in the strongest possible terms, that you could not possibly be more wrong."

He paused here to allow Darcy to fully comprehend the strength of his convictions and then returned to what he considered to be the heart of the matter. He was unable to control the tremor in his voice when he continued.

"Sir, there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that had you behaved in a less than honourable manner this family would be spending the next several days preparing for a funeral rather than a wedding."

Mary knocked on the library door at this point and informed them that a light lunch had been prepared for all of them by the cook. They were both astonished to hear that Mrs. Bennet had appeared at Kitty's door and had insisted that they all leave the sickroom for a time and that she would keep careful watch over her daughter. She would not be denied, and so the sisters had felt confident enough to leave Kitty to her care in order to have a midday meal and converse with Darcy and their father.

The sisters were understandingly curious about the circumstances that had led to Kitty's injuries but it was obvious that none of them had the courage to approach the subject. They knew that Darcy must be involved in some way and were afraid of offending him by their questions. Mr. Bennet felt it was best if he did the talking rather than Darcy, and he explained the situation in a way that, although not precisely a fabrication, absolved Darcy of all blame in the matter.

"Now that Kitty is out of danger and we have a moment to relax I have several pieces of information to share with you. The first is good news, very good news indeed. Mr. Darcy has requested Kitty's hand in marriage, which I have, of course, granted. Kitty's injuries came as a result of a number of factors occurring simultaneously that no one could have anticipated. Your sister arrived atop Oakham Mount just as Mr. Darcy and his horse did the same. All three were surprised at the encounter, particularly given the early hour of the morning. Darcy's horse reared up, and in her fright Kitty backed up and fell down the south side, which, as you know, is quite steep. I think you should know that Darcy had seen several farm workers on Sir William's estate before he reached the summit and encountered Kitty. After she fell he could easily have requested their assistance in retrieving her and escorting her to Longbourn. But, obviously, he did not, and we must all be thankful that he took it upon himself to tend to Kitty immediately. And I needn't tell you what happened when they reached Longbourn. I have no doubt that most gentlemen would have been content to send an express to London for a physician when it became known that the local apothecary was unavailable. Again, we owe Mr. Darcy a debt that can never be repaid that he himself undertook the weighty task of doing everything that could be done to ensure her safety until medical help can arrive from London. I needn't remind you of the graveness of her injuries; we were all painfully aware of them, and I have no scruples in saying that Mr. Darcy saved your sister's life."

At this point he was unable to continue, and his four daughters saw, for the first time in their lives, their father overcome with emotion. Mr. Bennet was an insightful man but until that morning he had steadfastly refused to use that insight to examine his own behavior as a father and husband. He had failed them all miserably, and this afternoon he had been forced to view with painful clarity his shortcomings. As he looked around the table he regarded his daughters as though seeing them for the first time. Jane's sweetness and inability to ever see flaws in anyone had been a subject of his constant derision. Lizzie's keen intellect he had fostered but he had encouraged in her a sarcasm that frequently victimized those around her. Mary, as the middle child, constantly sought approval from both her parents, and the more they neglected her, the more she attempted to put herself forward. Lydia had an energy and optimism that he could have easily channeled to promote the happiness of all around them. Instead, she was the constant victim of his contempt and he never failed to attempt to embarrass her in front of whoever was present.

The conversation then turned to other matters and it was agreed among them that the extent of Kitty's injuries and what had precipitated them would remain a carefully guarded secret known only to the occupants of that room. Others were to be told that Kitty had fallen from Oakham Mount, that Darcy had been the first to come upon her, and he had then brought her to her home. Her family had then tended to her wounds until the doctor that Darcy had summoned from London could arrive.

Kitty regained consciousness soon after this discussion and when Dr. Rushton arrived in the early hours of the morning he spent over an hour carefully examining her. He then joined the anxious family in the drawing room and pronounced her to be in as good a condition as they could possible hope considering the gravity of her injuries. He was confident of a full recovery. His only concern was if she developed an infection which could result in a fever but he was relieved when he heard of the precautions that had been taken to prevent this. She was in considerable pain, which was to be expected, and Hill, who remained with her, was given a vial of laudanum and instructed on its proper dosage. She had been sleeping when he left her and he strongly advised the rest of the family to do so also. It was obvious to him that they, and Darcy, were exhausted and he would relieve Hill and tend to Kitty himself throughout the night.

The next several days proved the efficacy of the soap that Darcy had insisted upon being used when Kitty was being treated by them and she remained infection and fever free. She was in quite a bit of pain however, and spent the two days following her accident in a sleep-induced state due to the administration of laudanum. On the third day she felt well enough to forego it and in the afternoon Darcy requested a private audience with her. His marriage proposal was met with absolute incredulity and it was not until he explained to her in graphic detail what he had done to treat her wounds that she finally grasped the necessity of their marriage. She wasn't happy about it though and her reluctance was further enhanced when she could easily see that Darcy also was opposed to it. When Darcy left for Pemberley less than a month before their wedding she was relieved. They had spent very little time together and each meeting was painfully awkward for both of them. They had no choice but to marry, and both of them spent the time before their wedding in apprehension of a marriage that neither of them desired.

When Darcy arrived at Pemberley he immediately acquainted Mrs. Reynolds with the news of his impending nuptials. The congratulations that she was about to extend died on her lips when she saw the expression on his face. He then issued instructions concerning the preparation of the suite that belonged to the master and mistress at Pemberley. He had never used his parents' rooms even though he had been the master of this estate for more than five years. It was required of him now; he certainly could not assign his wife to any of the other bedchambers in the family wing without causing a good deal of speculation. He then proceeded to spend the next several days in a state of absolute and complete intoxication and for the first time in his life treated his staff in a manner that had them tiptoeing around him. When he was not prowling the halls with a black look on his face that sent terror into the hearts of his servants he was in his study, usually sleeping in a chair at night but one morning, to his surprise, waking to find himself sprawled out on the Persian rug in front of the fireplace. Mrs. Reynolds entered the room each day to bring him meals and was obviously distressed when she returned to find the trays either untouched or with very little food consumed. She was an intrepid woman though, and on the fourth morning of his drunken exile she marched into his study with a determined look in her eye, a ramrod straight back, and a huge carafe of strong coffee. The drapes were opened wide to admit sunshine, he was handed an enormous cup of coffee, and she then proceeded to take every bottle of intoxicants in the room and lock them in the cabinet that was used for this purpose. This cabinet had never been locked and Mrs. Reynolds had spent a good deal of time the previous day searching for its key until at last it was found. With a combination of scolding and bullying she forced him up the stairs where a bath had already been prepared and his anxious valet was waiting to shave him and replace the wrinkled clothing that he had worn for the four preceding days. Mrs. Reynolds was stationed at the foot of the stairs when he came down and was once again presentable, and she ushered him into the dining room where the cook had prepared enough of his favorite food to feed a small army. He surprised himself by how much he was able to eat and felt remarkable well at the completion of his meal, particularly when he considered the state he had been in for the last several days. When it was obvious that he had eaten his fill Mrs. Reynolds sat down beside him with a resolute look on her face.

"Now sir, I would advise you to take a look at the correspondence that has accumulated since your arrival. An express from your cousin Richard arrived that had been forwarded from Netherfield and there is another express marked 'urgent' from your Uncle Matlock which also needs your attention. For the past three days your steward has been requesting an audience with you about a serious estate matter that he doesn't feel competent to handle on his own, and the forest manager needs to know what areas of Pemberley's woods you have selected for culling by the woodcutters so that they can begin their annual restocking of firewood for the winter." Here she paused, and fixed him with a gimlet eye that as a child he had dreaded above all things. "And as for me….. I expect you to use the good sense you were born with and to proceed from this point on in a manner befitting the master of Pemberley and the son of your esteemed father."

However little Darcy liked being spoken to in such a way he knew he could not continue on the way he had recently without serious damage not only to his health but to the innate pride he had always felt in himself and his own behavior. He went to his study to begin the work that Mrs. Reynolds had informed him of and was pleased to see that his staff had so quickly restored it to its former state of order and cleanliness. Unfortunately though, his resolve to behave in a manner befitting the master of the great estate of Pemberley dissolved instantly when he read the letters from his uncle and cousin and he flew into an absolute rage. His uncle's letter was even more insulting than his cousin's, for he demandedthat Darcy come to his London residence immediately to consult with him. Like his son, Richard, he also recommended paying off Catherine and her parents in order to extricate himself from this marriage, and then explained, in explicit terms, how an annulment could be obtained if Darcy was unable to prevent the union.

Darcy stomped out of his study and headed for the stables where he had his horse Juno saddled. Horse and rider spent the next hour tearing from one boundary of the estate to another at breakneck speed, jumping every obstacle that they encountered and only stopping to rest when Darcy became aware of the fatigue of his horse. Darcy had discovered when he was still a boy that he did some of his best thinking when astride a horse and this day was no exception. He resolved to let his relatives' letters go unanswered and to follow the course that he had previously decided upon. He would spare no effort in the future to ensure Catherine's comfort and happiness and would attempt all that he could to be a conscientious and thoughtful husband. If his marriage could not be as ideal as the one his parents had enjoyed, neither would it be rife with the indifference or animosity that characterized so many of the marriages of London's upper classes. He was determined to do his part for their felicity in this union and that the future would find them comfortable with each other and content with the life that they had created together.

Darcy spent the next two weeks busy with estate business. The last of Pemberley's fall crops were harvested and stored, the sheep were sheared and the wool taken to market, and he spent hours with his steward determining which acres of his farm land would lie fallow during the planting of the spring crops. He visited an elderly woman who lived in one of the seventeen cottages located on his estate where the families of Pemberley's workers lived; this woman was well known as an accomplished knitter and from her he ordered a shawl for Catherine spun from the wool of sheep on his estate. When finished, the shawl was even lovelier than he had anticipated, and he sent it off immediately with a note to Catherine explaining that the wool for her shawl came from the sheep of her future home.

He wrote to his London housekeeper, Mrs. Downton, who was the sister of Mrs. Reynolds, to prepare the suite of the master and mistress there and advising her that they would be in residence for several weeks. He also wrote to his London attorneys and requested that a member of the firm come to Pemberley to draw up the terms of his marriage settlement. When this was completed he rewrote his will to include Catherine as one of his heirs.

Satisfied that he had put all his affairs in order, four days before the wedding he departed for the two day journey to London. He spent one night at his London residence, departing just after dawn the following morning for Netherfield, and after bathing and changing his clothes was able to reach Longbourn by mid-afternoon. The only unpleasantness, which he had expected, was the inevitable confrontation with Miss Bingley when he arrived at Bingley's estate. She had learned the news of Darcy's engagement from her brother, Charles, and immediately exploded in anger. For the past several years she had not only _hoped, _but _expected,_ that she would one day bear the coveted title of Mistress of Pemberley. Her mortification at being denied that title was augmented by the fact that she had proudly canvassed her assurance of becoming Mrs. Darcy to all her London acquaintances. Now to be denied what she had striven for so assiduously, and to a sixteen year old girl with absolutely _no _qualifications for the honour, was simply untenable. There were several vague and contradictory rumors floating around Meryton about the reason for this sudden engagement; the only thing they all had in common was an assertion that Catherine Bennet had somehow fallen during a morning walk and Darcy had gallantly helped her back to Longbourn. In her mind this was scarcely a compelling reason for marrying and she was convinced that her own power of persuasion would convince Darcy to abandon this foolishness even at this late date.

"Mr. Darcy, I have been anxiously awaiting your arrival. You must not, simply must not, continue on with these plans for your wedding tomorrow. I have spent enough time with the Bennet family in the last several weeks to see how completely you have been taken in by them and forced into this marriage. I am not familiar with all the particulars concerning this disgraceful engagement, but do know enough to see that both you and Charles have been targeted since your arrival in the neighborhood by that family as potential husbands. Artful scheming women! And Kitty herself – surely you can see how you will become the laughing stock of the _ton_ if you stoop to marrying this unsophisticated country nobody who is scarcely older than your sister. It is not too late – you must inform them immediately that you simply will not go through with travesty!"

"Miss Bingley, you forget yourself. I am totally competent to decide the course of my own life, and I will abide by the commitment I have made. Furthermore, I will not permit you, or anyone else, to disparage my future wife or her family. My decision has been made and there is nothing further to be said."

With this, Darcy managed to shake off the hand that had been clutching his arm and turn a deaf ear to her further entreaties, which were growing ever more strident in nature. Miss Bingley was seriously displeased, and made a silent vow that if she had not the power to thwart this marriage, in the future she would do everything she could to make him aware of the folly of his choice. If _she _could not hold the position she had so long sought, then she would do everything possible to ensure that the woman who won this honour would be humiliated and ridiculed. Miss Bingley had many acquaintances in London and she resolved to offset the humiliation of her own rejection by spreading far and wide the news that Darcy would never have even considered choosing Kitty Bennet over herself if he had not been forced to by her artful family.

Darcy continued up the stairs to his chambers to prepare for the dinner at Longbourn. He completely underestimated the vitriol of Miss Bingley's anger; in fact, he had the mistaken impression that this confrontation was resolved in a way that would put an end to any further unpleasantness. Unfortunately, he had completely misjudged the situation, and the future would find him acutely aware of the abiding fury of a woman scorned.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Richard had listened to Darcy's explanation of what had precipitated his hasty union with absolute silence. It was so different from what he and his family had originally surmised that it took him several minutes to form the words to give a heartfelt apology to his cousin for ever even considering that either he or Catherine had been at fault for whatever had precipitated their marriage. He promised Darcy that he would explain as faithfully as he could to his parents and Georgiana all that he had been told. He also agreed with his cousin that the details of what had happened should be known to only the family.

An hour later, when Kitty was coming down the stairs to once again join them in the sitting room she could hear the sound of laughter all the way in the hall, and she couldn't help smiling as she entered the room. The atmosphere was entirely different from when she had left to write her letters and when the cousins spoke to each other she could see for herself the mutual affection that united them. After lunch Richard prepared to leave for London but was soon persuaded by both Darcy and Kitty to put off his departure until the following morning. They bundled up in warm clothing and went for a long walk along the beach. As they walked Kitty was regaled with stories of how they had spent summer holidays here as boys and all the happy memories that being at the manor recalled for them. They needed this, Kitty realized, they needed to recount these stories to once again secure the bonds of a friendship that they had shared all of their lives.

When they entered the sitting room after their walk Kitty could see that the colonel wanted to speak to her about something but was having a difficult time broaching the subject. She was pretty sure she knew the topic foremost in his mind and so she began to speak of it herself.

"I received a long letter from Elizabeth yesterday."

"You did? I hope that she is well? I did have an opportunity to have tea at the Gardiner's several times this week and she seemed to be fine. But it's hard for me to know for sure. Your sister is, well, difficult for me to understand sometimes."

"Oh yes, she is well. Most of her letter involved telling me that she regrets mocking me in the past for something that I have done for years and that she always thought was ridiculous."

"Oh? And what is that?"

"Elizabeth, and my other sisters also, has always believed that people should be judged by how they behave. And so, after an assembly or dinner party or something of that nature we would always discuss our impressions of the people we had interacted with. And their viewpoint was quite simple; people are what they do. But I always wanted them to look beyond our first impressions and to attempt to figure out the motivation behind someone's actions; I felt that much could be overlooked or forgiven if this was taken into consideration. But they felt differently and Elizabeth in particular would laugh at me. In her letter she wanted me to know that recent events have made her aware of the wisdom of my viewpoint."

"Did she happen to mention what had made her alter her opinion? I would never ask you to betray a confidence, of course, but I have a feeling that it touches on me and my recent behavior and, well, I am quite anxious about it."

"Why yes, she did." Kitty was rather enjoying this; to see a man like the colonel this nervous was rather amusing and she had to be careful to suppress her mirth. She looked at her husband and noticed that the corners of his mouth were turned up slightly and that he too was very much interested in the current conversation.

"And?"

"And what, colonel?"

"You know very well what I want to know! Did she mention me?"

"Yes, she did. In fact quite a bit of the letter concerned her opinion of you and how it differed from what it had been in the past."

"And?"

"And what, colonel?"

"Bloody hell! You're enjoying this, aren't you? And so are you Darcy; I know what that stupid grin on your face means."

Darcy could no longer contain his laughter. "Yes, Richard, I must confess that I am enjoying this very much. It absolutely delights me to see my wife irritate you in this manner and to see you squirming as a result. I see it as just revenge for all the times I have been subjected to exactly this type of treatment from you."

Richard shrugged; Darcy was right of course. He himself was usually the one teasing his more serious cousin and he had always found it to be an amusing activity. He was finding that it was not quite so amusing to be on the receiving end of this treatment and scowled at both of them.

Kitty decided to take pity on him. "You must excuse us, colonel; I can see that this is not something you are prepared to laugh at. At least not yet. Maybe in a year or two? Anyway, concerning your question, she wasn't sure how I was feeling about…well, about things that had happened recently. And she hoped that I would do what I always have in the past, look beyond actions and try to understand and forgive. She had recently become aware of someone who had experienced more trauma than most people experience in a lifetime and this person's uncharacteristic behavior was a result of these events. She felt that in this case her previously held opinion that one should be judged solely by one's actions was completely wrong."

"Oh, I see." A wide smile spread across his face. "I learned early on that your sister's good opinion would have to be something that I earned and that she would not bestow it lightly. It wasn't a pleasant realization, I can assure you, and I must confess that I have never worked so hard in my life as I have to make her think well of me. Napoleon in all his glory has not made me tremble half as much as I have the times that I feared I had offended your sister."

All three of them laughed when Richard made this rueful confession and the conversation moved on to more general subjects. Later, when they went to their rooms to dress for supper, Darcy dismissed Kitty's maid and sat her on the sofa next to him in the sitting room of his bedroom. "You have done this with me, haven't you? What you were telling Richard, that's the reason you have forgiven me so readily for my outrageous behavior to you. You saw beyond what I did, and saw who I am, and I can only conclude that you must have approved of what you saw. Is this true; is this what you have done since we married?"

"Yes, it is." And here Kitty flushed a vivid red and her voice was barely a whisper. "I have always thought that you were wonderful."

"Always?"

"Yes, always."

For Darcy these words were both a revelation and an accusation. He saw clearly now the motivation behind Kitty's ready forgiveness for the times that he had hurt her and could not but be humbled by her generous nature. In all his ruminations through the years of the qualities he would seek in his future wife he had never even considered the element of kindness. And it had never been a factor when he had imagined his own responsibilities as a husband to his wife. He had desired a woman he would be proud to escort to society functions, someone who would preside over his table with grace and dignity, and ideally, someone whose similar upbringing and values would render her a pleasant companion and comfortable conversant on whatever subjects he chose to discuss with her. He found himself instead married to a woman whose depth of feeling he had never anticipated, particularly in one so young and naïve in the ways of the world that he dwelt in, and he could no longer dismiss her viewpoints as he had attempted to earlier in their relationship. He had tried to emotionally distance himself from her but he saw clearly now that it would be a futile endeavor. Her generous nature was such an integral part of her very essence that he now knew he could no longer refuse to acknowledge it, for to do so would negate all that they had shared in the past week. He had never even considered the spiritual intimacy that must of necessity accompany the physical intimacy of his relationship with a woman and he was honest enough with himself to realize that, for him at least, the joy they had both experienced since coming to Folkestone would be incomplete without both factors in their marriage. He could find no words to express to Kitty how her words had touched him, but he reached out to her and wrapped her in his arms, and the next hour was one of the happiest that either of them had ever known. They were late joining Richard in the sitting room before their supper and when Richard saw their flushed faces he knew that there had most definitely been an improvement in his cousin's relationship with his wife. And he was very happy to see it.

The next morning Richard departed for London at an early hour with the promise that he would relay to his parents and Georgiana the details of the Darcy's hasty wedding and enjoin them to secrecy. His parting with his cousin and his wife was all that was affectionate and both cousins felt that they were deeply indebted to Catherine for the part she had played in reestablished the relationship that had been endangered for so many months. The mail was delivered shortly after Richard left and Kitty and Darcy were both reading their correspondence when he became aware that his wife was obviously shocked by the news that a letter from her sister Mary contained.

"What is it, Catherine? Not bad news from Longbourn, I hope?"

"William, I scarce know how to understand what Mary has written. Jane and Elizabeth mentioned something similar when they visited London for your aunt's dinner party but I dismissed it at the time as simply a passing thing. But now it seems that it is not, for Mary is quite detailed about what has happened. It is surprising, very surprising indeed, but if it continues it would be a most welcome development."

After her accident in the fall Catherine had initially been too ill, and then too concerned for her future as Darcy's wife, to fully comprehend that there had been a marked alteration in her mother's behavior. The rest of the family had been very aware of the ominous silence from their mother which was in sharp contrast to what they had expected - hysterics concerning Kitty's injuries intermingled with a gloating triumph regarding the prestigious marriage that her daughter would soon enter into. At the time the daughters, as well as Mr. Bennet, attributed her altered behavior to the shock of Kitty's life-threatening injuries, but after Kitty's recovery and the wedding had taken place this singular behavior continued. Mr. Bennet had some inkling of the foundation for her uncharacteristic silence but he was reluctant to consider that hasty words spoken in anger could have such a profound effect on a woman he had lived with for over twenty years and thought he knew as surely as any man could know his wife. When he and Darcy had confronted her with her selfish attempts to distract them from tending to Catherine there had been some words spoken by both men that they came to regret. Darcy's accusation of her being an "unnatural mother" and his own bitter statement that he rued the day that he ever met her seemed to be the impetus for her uncharacteristic demeanor. He felt little guilt for what he had said although it was the first time he had ever so explicitly voiced his disillusionment with their marriage in her presence.

As a second son Thomas Bennet was free to pursue whatever course in life he chose. He had always been scholarly and the years that he studied at Oxford were ones of fulfillment and contentment. He had excelled academically in several areas, particularly Greek and Roman philosophy, and when he completed his studies he accepted a position of assistant professor at Oxford. In his thirtieth year he accompanied one of his students home for a long weekend, and it was there that he met the seventeen year old pretty and vivacious Francis Gardiner. His experience with women was minimal and he was immediately captivated by her exuberance and flattered by her attentions. Within three months they were married and within six months he became the heir to Longbourn when his older brother was killed in a carriage accident. He was pleased to see how quickly his young wife adapted to the role of squire's wife and she enthusiastically embraced all the responsibilities that were entailed in her position. He had long since buried the disappointment he had initially felt when he realized that he could not share with her the intellectual pursuits that had previously engrossed him, but he loved her unreservedly for the many areas that she made his home a happy one. Their marriage was not even of eight years duration when they had been blessed with five healthy children, and Fanny took to motherhood as naturally as she had to her role as his wife. Bearing children came easily to her and they both felt that it was just a matter of time before a Bennet son and heir was born. He spent the mornings and the greater part of each afternoon learning the intricacies of being an estate owner but from tea time until they retired for the night he devoted himself to his wife and young family. He and his wife taught the girls to read and a large part of each evening was spent reading aloud to them from the ever increasing number of children's books that he procured for his library. Hertfordshire's early springs and late falls enabled the family to enjoy long walks in the area around Meryton and at least once a week they had a picnic supper by a pond in the far corner of the estate. Longbourn was a happy place in those years and he basked in the doting affection his wife showered upon himself and their children.

When Lydia was three years old Fanny gave birth to a stillborn son and it was then that relations between them took a subtle but marked turn. At first he could comprehend and sympathize with her grief, for he felt it in no small measure himself. It was a full month before she could leave her bed and three months before she would permit him to share it with her once again. She soon became with child again and the hesitant joy they had both experienced at her increasing was brutally shattered when she was brought to bed with twins a month before their expected birth. Their oldest son was stillborn and the second twin lived for only two days before he also died. Fanny was devastated by their loss; her grief was such that for several weeks it was believed that she would soon follow her baby sons to the grave. It took almost a half a year for her to fully recover and he was shocked one day to return from overseeing the spring planting on his estate to find his wife and Hill removing her belongings to the small mistress bedroom that connected to the sitting room of the master suite. When he demanded an explanation from her he was informed that they would no longer share a bed and that she could not even bear the thought of becoming with child again and suffering a loss similar to those she had endured in the last several years. When first he was informed of this he could sympathize with her reasoning but felt it was just a matter of time before they were once again as they had been before the tragedies which had caused her to take such a drastic step. However, this was not to be, and it was not many months before he finally accepted this fact and refused to continue his attempts to convince her otherwise. He knew that as her husband he had every right to demand her compliance but his pride prevented him from exercising such an option. He was deeply offended by her rejection though, and displayed his bitterness by subtle sarcasm concerning her inadequacies as both a wife and mother. She simply ignored him, and his criticism of her, which had previously been confined to his own home and the hearing of their children, soon became a common occurrence among all their acquaintances. He retreated to his library to assuage his anger in his beloved books and before long not only his wife but also his children were the objects of his neglect and derision.

Thomas Bennet was correct in his assumption that the accusations he and Darcy had leveled at Fanny were the cause of her dramatic alteration. That Darcy, or anyone, could consider her an unnatural mother

had shocked her. But it was the words of her husband that caused her to gasp for breath and see with clarity what she had become in his eyes. Through the years there was one thing she had never doubted and that was that her husband loved her. She was not a woman given to introspection and until that morning she had never thought to examine the evolution of their relationship and how dramatically it differed from what it once had been. Their problems had all begun when she had banned him from her bed; it was then that she realized there would never be an heir to Longbourn and all of her efforts thereafter had been concentrated on grooming her daughters to marry well in order to ensure their future prosperity. Her desperation for her daughters had caused her to behave in ways that she had known at the time were repugnant to him and she had simply ignored his increasingly obvious distain for her and her actions. On the morning of Kitty's injuries when the two men left her she sank into an armchair that faced a window looking out on the ridge of trees that formed the distant border of Longbourn's property, and she knew for a certainty that her life would never be the same again, and that _she_ would never be the same again.

From that point on when she began to make some comment she would pause and reflect on how it would be received by those listening to her. Her recent introspection had led her to recall that it was not only her husband who had been embarrassed by her words but her daughters as well, particularly Jane and Elizabeth. And so she became uncharacteristically silent as the realization of how many of the opinions she was wont to express were so patently offensive. When she was informed that as soon as her health would allow it Kitty would be married she was surprised to find that rather than thinking of Mr. Darcy's wealth her first emotion was the hope that her daughter would never give him cause to regret his marriage, as her own husband had done. Soon after the engagement was announced the neighborhood ladies called to express their congratulations and she could see that they were waiting for a certain reaction from her and they were surprised when it was not forthcoming. She knew what she would have expressed in the past – wild and unrestrained triumph at so advantageous a match for one of her daughters – and she once again realized how much she had given her family to dread from her behavior. Kitty's wedding, the engagement dinner and the wedding breakfast were simple affairs in keeping with what the bride and groom had requested, and she shuddered to think of how just months earlier she would have insisted on much more extravagant affairs.

She found the depression of her spirits that came with each new revelation was almost unbearable and sought to busy herself with those projects that had in the past given her a sense of her own worthiness to be the mistress of Longbourn. She began to once again pay visits to the tenants of the estate and also aided her daughters with the sewing that they did for the inhabitants of the orphanage. One evening the ladies of the house were gathered in the drawing room as they always were after supper and Mrs. Bennet asked Elizabeth what book she was reading. Elizabeth was embarrassed to confess that it was The Mysteries of Udolpho, a hugely popular gothic tale that included a wicked protagonist, a virtuous heroine, an abduction, a gallant hero, and a mysterious castle. All the Bennet ladies were intrigued and a plan was devised that each evening after supper they would read the book aloud to each other. Three weeks into their nightly readings Mr. Bennet became aware of the uncharacteristic quiet in the drawing room and left his library to investigate. The ladies were unaware of his presence for quite some time as he stood in the doorway and observed what they were doing. He saw them as they were now but also saw in his mind's eye a similar scene from years earlier when his children had gathered around his wife as she read them a story before they all retired for the night. He was overcome with sadness for all that had been lost and his own neglect of not only his children but also his wife. He surprised them by taking a seat in the room and insisting that he be permitted to join them and assist with the reading. From that time on the family found that this activity they shared was one that they anticipated many times throughout the day and it became a pivotal point in binding together the members of a family who had been alienated from each other for so many years.

Mary's letter had explained in detail not only the alteration in her mother's behavior but also the evolution of a family unity that was a direct result of her father's involvement with his wife and daughters for the first time that she could recall. Jane and Elizabeth remembered a time before their brothers had died when Longbourn was a happy home and had concluded, correctly, that events surrounding these tragedies were the cause of their mother's obsession with finding husbands for her daughters and for their father's withdrawal from his family in bitterness and sarcasm. When Kitty told Darcy about her three brothers he was able to understand more fully the aspects of her parents' relationship that had puzzled him in the past. He had been unaware that the senior Bennets had endured such a loss and the poignant cruelty of Mr. Bennet's words to his wife was viewed with a clarity he had been unable to arrive at earlier. If the loss of her sons had caused Mrs. Bennet to abandon her husband's bed, as he strongly suspected she had, he could certainly understand her husband's frustration. The past week at Folkestone had given Darcy a very clear indication of how crucial such intimacy was to a marriage. He could not even begin to fathom how he would react if Kitty refused his attentions now but was quite sure it would be even more dramatic than Mr. Bennet's had been. Darcy was aware that his wife's youth and inexperience might be impediments to her understanding of what he had surmised concerning her parents, but when he explained to her what he believed had happened between them, and why it had happened, he was not really surprised to see that she fully understood and agreed with his reasoning.

Darcy and Kitty had also received letters from Lady Matlock that morning and both letters contained similar contents. It was but five days until Christmas Eve, and it was her dearest wish that Catherine would be improved enough in the next several days so that the Darcys could return to London and spend the holidays with them.

"Georgiana and I have always spent Christmas with the Matlocks. I think perhaps it is time we consider when we should depart for London."

"I'm not going. I'm never leaving here. I will miss you, and I hope that you will visit me occasionally, but my mind is made up. I'm never leaving Folkestone."

Darcy laughed and regarded her with a rueful smile. "My dear, we really have no choice and you know it. This week has been idyllic but our real life beckons us back to our responsibilities. I hate to even consider all the mail from Pemberley that my secretary didn't forward to me because he didn't feel it was sufficiently urgent, and you must know that after my aunt's party our presence will be very much in demand by the people who attended it. We need to return, and soon. Why are you so reluctant?"

"Why? You know why. In London you were always The Master of Pemberley, but here you have been….well, I'm not sure what you have been…..but it has been something quite different. And if we return I'm so afraid that all we had here will be only a memory and nothing between us will have changed."

"How can you even think that is possible, Catherine? Everything has changed for us, everything. And as far as what I have been in the time that we have been here, I know how to describe it even if you do not. I have been a _husband_, Catherine; for the first time since we married I have been a husband to you. I am not a man of many words, as I'm sure you must know by now. But surely you must have been aware of my efforts to show you in other ways what you have come to mean to me." The blush that immediately covered her face made it obvious to him that she knew exactly what he meant by the _other ways_ he had employed and he continued with more confidence, "We _will _be happy in London, perhaps not as happy as we have been here, but have no fears that I will revert to being the boorish lout I have been the past several months. That man vanished the first night I held you in my arms until the following morning. I came here as a man and you came here as a woman, but we will be leaving as a husband and his wife. And nothing can ever change that."

The Darcys left Folkestone two mornings later and in the following weeks Catherine was relieved to see that her husband had been correct about how their stay at the coast had permanently altered their relationship. His prediction about the amount of work awaiting him also proved to be accurate but he invariably found time during the day to take tea with her or to escort her to the nearby park for a short walk. The first week of their return Darcy refused to allow the knocker on their front door to be up and they spent the majority of their time with the Matlocks. Lady Matlock relished any excuse to entertain and Christmas was her favorite occasion for celebration. The entire house was fragrant with the smell of the cedar boughs that draped every staircase and fireplace mantel, there was a Yule log to be lit, plum pudding to be eaten, and carols to be sung to the music Georgiana played on the pianoforte. Many gifts were distributed to family members, delicately wrapped in tissue paper and invariably something thoughtful and of personal importance to the receiver. Kitty had gifts for her new family too; she had spent a morning in the kitchen of Darcy House preparing ribbons of red and green Christmas candy because every year it was a tradition at Longbourn that this candy be the main dessert over the holidays. The candy, as she had hoped, was received with delight by everyone, especially when she explained its significance to her. They were all aware that this was her first Christmas away from her family and childhood home and no effort was spared to convince her that she was now a member of another family that would love and care for her.

When the holidays were over Kitty's days were occupied with receiving the many callers who had been anxiously awaiting the time when the knocker would once again be up at Darcy House. It was not many days before she found that being a gracious hostess came naturally to her. She was particularly attentive to the young wives of Darcy's friends who had attended Lady Matlock's dinner and before long she and Darcy were accompanying those friends to social events and going to their homes for private dinners. He and Kitty were now reviewing together the many invitations that arrived for them each day and accepting only those from people they felt at ease with. In the past Darcy had accepted many invitations simply because the person who requested his presence was of sufficient status for his reluctant acceptance but soon he came to his wife's way of thinking that accepting invitations from people they actually liked was the only way to ensure that they could spend their time in an enjoyable manner. Darcy also discovered that there was a decided difference between what he had experienced from society when he was a single gentleman and the manner in which he was now received with his pretty young wife on his arm. He saw how effortlessly Kitty put those who conversed with them at ease with her kind and welcoming manner and it was not long before he was anticipating with pleasure the times he could enter a social situation with Catherine by his side. In the early days after their return from the coast they were sure to cause an observable ripple of interest wherever they went, but Darcy followed his wife's lead to bestow their attentions primarily on those acquaintances they favored and with whom they were comfortable. They were invariably polite to all they encountered but it was only with the select few whom they regarded as friends that they were intimate. They declined almost twice as many invitations as they accepted and any hostess who could boast that the Darcys would be attending an event she sponsored was inevitably the envy of the other hostesses in town.

One of the ladies that Catherine formed an immediate bond with was Lady Elizabeth Townsend whose husband, Robert, was a future Earl and had been a close friend of Darcy's during their years together at Cambridge. Both Townsends were rather shy but Kitty felt more comfortable with Lady Elizabeth than with the other more confident wives of her husband's friends. They had all been kind to her and more than willing to accept her as one of their own but Kitty was still somewhat unsure of her place in this exclusive group and her new friend's timidity dovetailed perfectly with the trepidation she was feeling. Their friendship was hesitant at first; Lady Elizabeth felt all the honour of being singled out by the young woman who was the much envied object of so many in society this season, and Kitty was painfully aware that just six months ago she could never even have imagined herself worthy of the friendship of a future Countess. Lady Elizabeth had recently given birth to a baby girl and Kitty's obvious delight when she held the newest member of the Townsend family did much to endear her to both husband and wife. When the baby was born Kitty had heard subtle hints from others that it was regrettable that the child was not a son and that Lady Townsend had somehow failed her husband by producing a girl. And so she redoubled her efforts to express her approval of the birth of such a lovely child and she never visited her friend without requesting a visit to the nursery and holding the soft warmth of the baby in her arms. Elizabeth had suspicions concerning her friend's interest in the baby but was hesitant to voice her thoughts, and Kitty had suspicions of her own that she was reluctant to acknowledge. She was unsure how much Darcy knew of the workings of a woman's body, but there had not been a single day in the two months since their visit to Folkestone that they had not been intimate, and she would have thought that any man would have deduced what that meant. Darcy, apparently, did not, and she decided to wait until she was more confident in her condition to share it with him.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The week after Lady Elizabeth was churched following the birth of her child she decided to hold a dinner party for the five couples who represented the Townsend's closest friends. As it turned out, because Darcy and Robert were so close during their college years, Darcy was friends with all five of the invited men and Kitty knew and was comfortable with all of the women. Colonel Fitzwilliam was the only gentleman attending who was not married but he was escorting the Earl's older sister who was a pleasant person and known to both of the Darcys. Darcy and Kitty were looking forward to this dinner until Richard visited one afternoon and confessed his part in possibly ruining what had previously been anticipated as a most wonderful evening. He had made the mistake of mentioning the upcoming dinner to his brother Edmund. When Edmund related this information to his wife Lady Marianne immediately set out to visit her dear friend Lady Townsend and wouldn't rest until she had also procured an invitation to the event. Elizabeth previously had no intention of including her; she had seen firsthand what Marianne was capable of in terms of intimidating others. However, a timid Lady Elizabeth was no match for a determined Lady Marianne, and before she knew what she was about she found herself extending the invitation in spite of her own misgivings.

Kitty was surprised to see how much Lady Marianne's attendance at this dinner dismayed both her husband and Richard. Darcy _was _concerned, very concerned, because he had never explained to his wife the circumstances that made her a particular target of Lady Marianne's animosity. There was silence in the room as Kitty looked at them both with a determined expression as she quietly waited. She would not rest until they explained themselves, and both men knew it. It was Richard who spoke first.

"Darcy, we have to tell her. Someone else is going to before long, you can be sure of that, and then they'll be hell to pay. Your wife may be one of the kindest and most forgiving women who ever lived, and I have first-hand knowledge of the truth of this." Richard paused at this point to give her a quick bow and a wink. "Regardless, we are both going to be in big trouble if we don't explain exactly what occurred to make her the object of the full force of my dear sister's nastiness. If you won't tell her, I will."

Darcy had always been more embarrassed than flattered by the attentions of the women who had pursued him and he was more than happy to allow Richard to explain his dealings with Lady Marianne Matterton. The previous spring the lady in question had decided that having arrived at her twenty-fourth year it was time that she grant some fortunate man the privilege of accepting her hand in matrimony. She would have preferred to confer this honour on a Duke, or even an Earl, but none of the present crop of London dandies met her fancy. The handsome and elusive Fitzwilliam Darcy did, however, and from the moment she set her sights on him he was a hunted man. She made no secret of her quest and had absolutely no doubt of her success. Her status as the daughter of a Duke and her dowry of thirty thousand pounds she felt would be irresistible to any man but to her amazement she soon realized that capturing him would be a bit more difficult than she had anticipated. Darcy eluded her as best he could but they unfortunately were members of the same social set. She was invariably at most of the function he attended and relentless in her pursuit of him. Richard also attended most of these events and was greatly amused watching the lady's determination at war with his cousin's resistance. His amusement quickly turned to alarm though one evening when he and Darcy were attending a ball given by Lady Marianne's father, Duke Matterton. His years in the army had honed his ability to sense danger even in its subtlest forms and there was something about the lady's behavior that evening that put him on full alert. He stationed himself at Darcy's side for the majority of the evening and all was well until Darcy did what he felt was his duty as a guest and requested her hand for a dance. Richard kept an eagle eye on them and could see that the lady did most of the talking and when Darcy returned he was obviously troubled by something. Lady Marianne had informed him that she had heard something quite important concerning his sister Georgiana that she believed he needed to know. This information was of a very personal nature and she felt they should have complete privacy when she told him of it. He had agreed to meet her in the library immediately after the supper and was quite baffled when he told his cousin of this and Richard began laughing.

"By God, Darcy, for a seemingly intelligent man you can be unbelievably stupid at times! Meet you alone in the library, eh? I guarantee you, cousin, that if you do so you will enter that room a single unattached man and emerge from it a man engaged to be married. How in the world could you be so daft as to accept such a proposition from her?"

Richard argued with his cousin in vain; Lady Marianne had attended the same finishing school where Georgiana was now and Darcy knew for a fact that she corresponded with several of teachers there. His sister had been unwell since contracting a cold in the winter and his first concern was that she had been more ill than he had previously believed. All the information that he and Richard had received concerning her health came from Georgiana herself and Darcy was afraid that the teachers were aware of something that his sister hesitated to tell them because she didn't want them to worry. His mind was made up that he would attend Lady Marianne in the library and nothing Richard said about traps and compromising situations could sway him. Richard was a stubborn man though and he had not reached the level where he presently was in the army by abandoning a campaign because the odds seemed to be against him. He spotted his father across the room and he steered Darcy in that direction. When he explained the situation to his father and informed him that Darcy was determined to hear what the lady had to say the Earl paused and then addressed his son in an admonishing tone. His voice was serious, but there was a twinkle in his eyes that convinced Richard that his father had reached the same conclusion he had concerning the nature of this library conference and that he had devised a clever way to keep his nephew safe.

"Richard, I am sorry to disagree with you, but Darcy has the right of it. I completely agree with his decision to hear what the lady has to say. However, you and I also have a very keen interest in Georgiana's wellbeing. So we will accompany Darcy when he goes to this assignation and I'm confident that the lady will have no objections to our presence."

Both Matlock gentlemen, of course, were convinced that the lady would most certainly have _very_ strong objections to their presence and Darcy only conceded to their accompanying him because he could see that neither his uncle nor his cousin would permit him to enter the library alone. Indeed, Richard was so adamant that Darcy suspected that he would not hesitate to use physical force to restrain him. Lord Matlock and his son were quite convinced that what had previously been a rather tedious evening would quickly evolve into an extremely eventful one if what they suspected would happen in the library did indeed occur. Both men found it difficult to disguise their glee and solemnly assure Darcy that their only motivation in accompanying him to meet the lady was their concern for Georgiana.

At the conclusion of the supper the three men saw Lady Marianne give Darcy a meaningful look and then exit the room. They waited just a moment before they also left the room for the library, which happened to be quite close to the ballroom. Darcy entered the room first and was greeted by a wide smile from the lady which quickly turned to alarm when his cousin and Lord Matlock followed closely behind him. She knew her carefully laid plans had been completely foiled and frantically tried to get all three men out of the library as quickly as possible. She nervously assured them that what she had to relate about Georgiana did not warrant such concern on their part and that perhaps the hall would be a better place for her to discuss this with them. She was quickly crossing the room as she said this and heading for the door to make a hasty retreat when Lord Matlock gently but firmly took her arm and led her once again into the centre of the room. He solemnly assured her that whatever she had to say was of utmost importance to all three of them and they must immediately hear whatever it was she knew. He had carefully maneuvered their positions so that he was on the far side of Darcy. Richard saw what the Earl was about and placed himself behind his father so that he would also be undetected and if anyone entered the darkened room only Lady Marianne and Darcy would be apparent.

It was not many minutes before the library door was violently thrown open and Duke Matterton entered and began loudly accusing Darcy of compromising his daughter and demanding that he marry her to preserve her reputation. Lady Marianne sped across the room and attempted to get him to be quiet but he had his orders and he was determined to play the role that his daughter had so carefully coached him on. He knew exactly what was expected of him, and by god, he would not disappoint. The previous evening his daughter had tearfully explained that she very much feared Darcy would attempt to get her alone during the course of the evening and that he had even mentioned his desire to see her privately in the library after the supper. She begged her father to protect her from being compromised and if this was indeed the case to demand that Darcy do the gentlemanly thing and marry her. And so the Duke did exactly what was expected of him and his indignant demands had by this time drawn a curious audience to the library door and none of his daughter's frantic attempts could silence him. He was in his cups, as he invariably was by this time in the evening, and it took him quite some time to realize that Darcy was not the only gentleman in the library. By the time he realized it Richard was laughing uncontrollably and even the Earl could not suppress his smiles. Darcy was neither laughing nor smiling, but the relieved look on his face was evidence enough to the eager crowd in the doorway. They all surmised immediately exactly what had transpired in the library, or more accurately, exactly what had _not_ transpired in the library. The news spread like wildfire through the ballroom and what had begun as an ordinary ball instantly became the most talked of affair of the season. Lady Marianne attempted to hold her head high in the face of the knowing looks and snide smiles that she encountered the following weeks, and her only comfort was that she had devised a plan that would not only ensure that she be a bride before the season was over but that she would make the Matlocks pay for their insult to her.

The Matlock's oldest son and heir, Edmund, was possessed of neither his brother Richard's charming manners and intelligence nor his cousin Darcy's handsome features and great wealth. He was quite shy, and when he attended a ball or dinner with Darcy and Richard he found himself unable to compete with the aplomb that they both exhibited when subjected to the persistent attentions of the ladies. So he was often on the sidelines at such events but the goodness of his nature made it impossible for him to resent the two men who had always been his dearest friends. As a future Earl he was afforded all the consequence that was due a man of his station but he entertained no illusions that his company was sought for any other reason than the title which would one day be his.

Two weeks after the Matterton's ball he attended a dinner party where Lady Marianne was also present and he was flattered when she sought him out and expressed particular interest in learning more about him. They both attended a ball not long after that and he found himself discussing with her a curricle that he had recently purchased. She remarked that she had never ridden in such a conveyance and before he knew it he had extended an invitation for her to ride with him the following afternoon in Kensington Park. The next day was warm and sunny and as he drove his curricle through the park with Lady Marianne at his side he could never remember feeling as happy as he felt at that time. He was surprised when she asked him to drive the curricle to a more secluded section of the park but quickly did as she requested. With many blushes and tear-filled eyes she began to make a confession that she said she otherwise would never have considered. She had hosted a ball the previous month and when she received his reply to her invitation that he was engaged elsewhere that evening she had impetuously concocted a plan to see if her fondest hopes – her dearest wishes – could ever come to fruition. At the ball she asked his cousin Darcy if she could see him privately because what she had to say was of such a personal nature she couldn't bear to have anyone else hear of it. And then she confessed, with hesitant words and many tears, that _he, _Edmund_,_ had been the reason she had wanted to speak to Darcy. He had been the object of her fervent admiration for several years and she wanted to ask his cousin if he felt she had any chance of ever having Edmund return the deep affection that she felt for him. She had received two very advantageous offers of marriage this season and both of her beaux were pressing her for an answer. But how could she tell them that her heart was already engaged – that her affections were so fixed upon a man who seemed to be unaware of her existence? Lady Marianne was overcome with emotion at this point and wept quietly in her handkerchief. When she was once again able to control herself she explained how everything had gone terribly wrong. Darcy had entered the library with Richard and the Earl and she was too embarrassed to confess the true reason she had wanted this conference. Then her father had entered and made a scene before he realized that her meeting with Darcy was quite innocent and she was afraid that if he heard of it from others he might draw the wrong conclusion. She couldn't bear the thought of him thinking ill of her and she wanted him to know that even if he heard in the coming weeks of her engagement to another man that he was the only man she had ever admired. And here she looked up at him shyly through eyelashes that were shiny with tears and whispered that she just couldn't sacrifice herself in marriage to another man if there was a chance, however remote, that he could return her affections some day.

Edmund, awkward and tongue-tied as he always was in the presence of a lady, was never-the-less able to assure her that yes, indeed, there was every chance that he could come to care for her as she did for him. He wasn't sure how it came about, but before he knew what was happening she was in his arms and he was assuring her that not only did he feel he could some day return her affections, but that he already did. He was sublimely happy and before the hour was up he was in Lord Matterton's library and requesting Lady Marianne's hand in marriage. When he returned to Matlock Hall and joyfully related his news to his parents and brother he was dismayed by their reaction. They angrily related what had almost befallen Darcy at the ball less than a month previously but he was certain that his fiancé's explanation of the real reason for the interview with Darcy would calm their fears. It did not, quite the contrary, and though his family's disapproval dampened his newly found pleasure, Edmund never faltered in his resolve. In the early days of summer they were married, but in the triumphant smiles of the bride the Matlock family saw more than just happiness and knew that there would be difficult times ahead, especially if Darcy married any time in the near future. Darcy was indeed a married man in less than five months and they all knew that the woman he had married would be the object of Lady Marianne's particular attention, and not in a good way.

Darcy was made uncomfortable by Richard's explanation of what had happened with Lady Marianne, especially when he saw that his cousin and his wife found humour in how easily he had been duped by the lady. He was most displeased with his wife's reaction and he felt that his near entanglement with such a woman should evoke her sympathy rather than her laughter. When she made a remark about how much it must have galled a woman of Lady Marianne's pride to not have been chosen by Darcy to be his wife he spoke without forethought.

"Catherine, before you crow too loudly about Lady Marianne not being chosento be my wife you might reflect upon the fact that you also were not _chosen_ for that position."

Absolute silence followed this comment and for many minutes not a word was spoken. Then Catherine rose slowly from her chair, mumbled something about a meeting with Mrs. Downton, and left the room. Richard left soon afterward and Darcy was unable to raise his eyes as he made his farewells because he was well aware of the anger he would see on his cousin's face. It was well deserved anger, and Darcy knew it. He had to see Catherine; he had to tell her how sorry he was for making such a thoughtless comment. He had painfully discovered in his past several months of being a married man that just because something was true did not mean that it should be spoken aloud.

As he had suspected, Kitty was not meeting with Mrs. Downton, so he climbed the stairs to their suite of rooms to look for her. When he found she was not in the sitting room adjoining his bedchamber he entered the mistress chamber. There he was arrested by sounds coming from her dressing room of someone retching quite violently. He froze and was undecided if he should enter to help her but then he heard her maid speaking softly to her. He left the room and went downstairs to his study. Darcy was hoping that he would be able to distract himself from what had happened and tackle the large amount of correspondence that had arrived that morning in the mail but he just couldn't focus and began pacing back and forth. Foremost in his mind was the fact that his words had affected his wife so strongly that she had become physically ill. He had much to atone for and he anxiously waited until he felt a sufficient amount of time had passed so that she could be well enough to receive him. When almost an hour had elapsed he entered her room to see that she was in bed and both Sarah and Mrs. Downton were attending her. Kitty's face was almost as white as the pillow where she reclined her head and the only colour on her face was the red that rimmed her eyes. He shooed his housekeeper and Kitty's maid out of the room, pulled a chair over to the side of her bed, and hesitantly took her hand.

"I'm sorry, Catherine, so very sorry. You once called me an idiot and I have managed to prove the accuracy of that description once again. Please tell me that you can forgive me. You look ill, so ill, and I know that my words have caused this."

"You needn't apologize for something that we both know to be true. You certainly have not hesitated to remind me of it several times in the past months. I don't want to discuss it."

Darcy shifted uncomfortably in his chair. It was unlike Kitty to be so caustic but he had early on learned one thing about his relations with his wife; it was much easier for him to bear her anger than her tears. "If this is what you truly wish then I will let it go. But what I cannot ignore is that you look so ill. I would feel more comfortable if Dr. Rushton could examine you."

"No, not yet. Perhaps soon, if I continue to feel this way."

"I'm reluctant to agree to this but I will if you promise to remain in bed until tomorrow morning."

"Absolutely not! Have you forgotten that we are engaged to attend the theatre this evening with two other couples?

"We are not going. And I will not budge on this."

"Yes, we are going. I am just fine and we cannot disappoint our friends in this matter."

With that Kitty flung back the counterpane and rose to her feet. But the moment she stepped away from the bed she felt a wave of dizziness and only Darcy's quick thinking saved her from sliding to the floor as she fainted. At this new evidence of his wife's indisposition Darcy became seriously concerned. A footman was hastily dispatched to return with Dr. Rushton and Darcy sought the aid of both women who had attended her earlier to revive her. Wet cloths and smelling salts brought her around quickly and she reluctantly conceded that seeing the doctor was perhaps a good idea after all. Kitty was quite convinced by this time of the cause of her illness. She was confident that the doctor would confirm her suspicions and she could finally share this wonderful news with her husband. She had had ample time to consider all the ramifications of being a mother and she was very happy to know that within six months she would be one.

Dr. Rushton needed very little time to confirm that Kitty's suspicions were correct. She seemed otherwise healthy, except for being a bit tired, and when he exited her bedchamber door he was able to reassure Darcy with a smile and a pat on the back.

"Go and speak to your wife, Darcy. She will be able to tell you better than I can what ails her."

When Darcy entered Kitty's room he was relieved to see that her colour had returned and she was sitting up in the bed and leaning against the headboard with just the hint of a smile on her face.

"Well? What did he say? He didn't seem concerned; it is nothing serious I surmise."

"Yes, I am well, very well. He told me something that I have suspected for some little time. How will you like being a father by early fall? We are to have a child, William, and I am so very happy!"

"What? I am surprised, shocked! However did this happen?"

There was a long pause as Kitty regarded him thoughtfully. "How did this happen? You, of all people, wonder how this could happen? You have so often teased me about my lack of knowledge about….well, about certain things…so surely you must know _exactly_ how this happened."

"Oh yes, I guess I do know. But then I never expected such a thing. I thought perhaps eventually, but not so soon. You are so young and we have been married such a short time. I had hoped for a child some day, of course I have, but certainly not yet." Darcy realized at this point that he was babbling and stopped himself from saying anything more.

Kitty was disappointed by his response but her disappointment was tempered by her strong sense of what was causing such a reaction from her husband. He had never spoken of it to her, but Georgiana had, and she knew that his mother had died just three days after giving birth to his sister. Kitty reached out to take his hand and pulled him down to sit beside her on the bed.

"I am strong and healthy and the doctor feels there is no danger for either me or our child. All will be well, William; he says that the minor problems I am experiencing now are quite normal and will cease within a few short weeks." She saw that he was still troubled and felt it would be best to postpone further words until he had accustomed himself to the news. "But I am tired now and still feeling a little ill. I would like to sleep for a while if I can. Let's discuss this later when I have awakened."

Darcy was more than happy to agree and he went to his study intent on giving himself over to thinking this through. He needed time alone to ponder such unexpected news. He was chagrinned to realize that he had never, not even once, considered that this could be the result of the intimacy that he had so enjoyed with his wife since Folkestone. What a fool he had been! He was unaware if there were methods that he could have used to prevent such an outcome and he certainly could not regret what they had shared. His wife was obviously pleased with the news that she was with child and he determined that he must suppress his own misgivings and attempt to share her joy. Darcy knew that his wife possessed an unusual sensitivity and very much feared that pregnancy would further exacerbate this trait. He determined that from this point on he would subjugate his own concerns and act the part of a husband who was delighted with his upcoming fatherhood. And when Kitty awoke from her brief nap he set out to do just that. Before long he found it was not such an effort to do so and he began to conjure up the pleasant image of his wife with their baby at her breast. There was no denying that this development was completely unexpected but he soon was able to view his young wife's pregnancy with equanimity.

Unfortunately for them both, Darcy's preoccupation with her state led him to be so solicitous and protective of her that she soon felt completely smothered by his attentions. The Townsend's supper party was the night after Dr. Rushton had examined her and Kitty was sick again that morning. Darcy was adamant that they would not be attending the dinner party and nothing Kitty could do could change his mind. She scolded, wept, and even attempted seduction, a ploy which had never failed in the past to make him compliant. But he wouldn't be persuaded and he even forced her to spend the entire day in her bed. She scowled at him each time he came in to spend time with her and she was further incensed when he just laughed and warned her to accustom herself to such treatment because she would be subjected to it for the next six months.

Neither of them were laughing the next morning when Kitty awoke in a pool of blood. Dr. Rushton was sent for and he could not disguise the concern he felt from either of the Darcys. His examination revealed that she still carried the child but he was uneasy, and when the same thing happened the following afternoon he was even more concerned that this pregnancy would not have a happy outcome. The doctor shared his fears with Darcy and left it to him whether his wife should be informed of his apprehensions. Dr. Rushton felt there was a chance, albeit a small one, that the pregnancy could continue on successfully, and Darcy clung to this hope and decided to not upset Kitty unduly with the doctor's prognosis. He spent the remainder of the day with his wife in her room talking to her, reading to her, or just sitting quietly with her hand in his. The next two days Kitty was feeling so much better that Darcy finally agreed that she could dress and go downstairs to their sitting room. He continued to anxiously hover over her though and by the time lunch concluded she had had enough.

"If you continue behaving like a nursemaid I will go absolutely mad! Do you intend to act like this until our child is born? If you do have such intentions please let me know now because if that is the case I'm going to run away and join a gypsy camp until I give birth. I want you out of here right now…not just out of this room but out of this house. Go do something – anything. Go fencing, or to your favorite bookstore, or to your club where you can commiserate with the other unhappy husbands whose wives are also with child. Just go somewhere, anywhere but here!"

In fact, Darcy was feeling a bit house-bound and decided that a round of fencing was just what he needed to dispel the tension that had been his constant companion since learning that his wife was with child. So, much to his wife's delight, and surprise, he agreed to leave the house for several hours. Before he left he spoke with Mrs. Downton and instructed her that someone was to fetch him from his fencing club immediately if there were any problems. His housekeeper was aware that Kitty was pregnant; indeed, she had known even before her young mistress was certain of it. Sarah didn't know what to do when Catherine was ill several mornings and she consulted with the housekeeper in the hopes of finding a way to alleviate Catherine's distress. Mrs. Downton's advice was immediately implemented and dry toast and tea were fetched from the kitchen early each morning and ready for Kitty in her dressing room when she awoke. The housekeeper was also aware of the reason the doctor had been so frantically summoned two different times in the past week and she was able to promise Darcy that at the

smallest hint of trouble a footman would be dispatched to alert him that he was needed at home. This promise gave Darcy the assurance he needed to set off to his fencing club with a confident feeling that nothing untoward could happen in his absence. He could not have been more wrong.

Kitty was reading in her sitting room when a loud voice was heard emanating from someone ascending the stairs. It was Lady Catherine de Bourg and she was as angry as she had ever been in her life. Her fury the previous fall on learning of Darcy's upcoming wedding had been expressed in a barrage of incensed letters that she had dispatched to her nephew and younger brother, Lord Matlock. She had expected immediate compliance with her demands that Darcy repudiate the upstart woman in Hertfordshire who had dared to interfere with her own wishes for an alliance between her daughter and her nephew. When she was unsuccessful in preventing the wedding she found consolation in knowing what an embarrassment Catherine would prove to be under the vigilant surveillance of the _ton_. Catherine would be shown to be a ridiculously unsophisticated country nobody and Darcy would be made to look like a fool for marrying her. She knew that her brother had done all he could to prevent this union and she never doubted that the Darcys would be shunned by the Matlocks as well. This conviction gave her a perverse sense of satisfaction despite the fact that she had been thwarted in her own plans. She sat back and waited; she knew the gossip columns in the London newspapers would soon be filled with subtle hints concerning "A Mr. D from Derbyshire" and his disaster of a wife. His unexpected marriage had already been a rich source of material for speculation and Lady Catherine was certain there would be a veritable flood of condemnation once her nephew's young wife made an appearance. For over a month the papers were silent and then they contained news that she first felt must be a fabrication. The information related was that her own brother and his Countess had hosted a dinner party for the Darcys in order to present her to society! Even more disturbing were details of a toast that the Earl had given in which he warmly welcomed her into the family. From that point on at least twice a week there was some mention of the new Mrs. Darcy and Lady Catherine found to her horrified disbelief that all of it was favorable. The Darcys were generally regarded as THE couple of the London season and Mrs. Darcy was praised by one and all as a lovely young wife who was doted on by her husband and admired by all who met her. Lady Catherine had thought that nothing could equal the anger she initially felt when she learned of this upcoming marriage but the blinding rage she felt when reading of Mrs. Darcy's successful introduction to London society managed to make her so angry that she decided to act. She would go to London immediately to let her nephew and his wife know in no uncertain terms that not everyone looked upon their union with favor. She ordered her carriage, found a letter that she was determined to take with her, and set off for London.

Kitty's first impression when Lady Catherine entered the room was that she was in the presence of a madwoman. Darcy had mentioned very little about his aunt except one reference to the fact that she was opposed to their marriage and that was the reason his wife had not yet been introduced to her. Kitty was soon apprised of the fact that 'opposed' would be a mild term to describe the lady's position concerning their marriage. Lady Catherine informed her that Darcy had been engaged to her own daughter for years and that she was convinced that he had been lured into a compromising position and forced to marry so far beneath him. Darcy had not even had the decency to break the engagement in person and the first her poor daughter had learned of it was when they saw the engagement announcement in The London Times. She then withdrew from her reticule a letter that she had received from her brother, Lord Matlock, in the fall when Darcy's engagement had originally been made known to them. She gleefully read the letter aloud to Catherine and told her that any illusions she had that the family really welcomed her in their midst were just that – illusions. They knew her for what she was – a greedy harlot who had tricked Darcy into this disgraceful union and if the Matlocks seemed to accept her it was simply to save the family from any further embarrassment. Kitty was too shocked by this vitriolic attack to utter a single word, and Lady Catherine finally departed the room with the very satisfying conviction that she had made her sentiments known in such a decided fashion that the new Mrs. Darcy would not soon forget that there were those who understood her motivation for trapping Darcy and despised her for it.

When Lady Catherine had entered the foyer of Darcy House the doorman had attempted to prevent her from gaining access to the sitting room where he knew his mistress was reading. She had pushed past him and loudly announced to all who listened that she was not to be deterred and that she had been silent long enough concerning the insolence of her nephew and his disgraceful wife. Mrs. Downton heard her, as did almost every inhabitant of the house, and quickly dispatched a footman to alert Darcy of what was happening. She herself attempted to enter the room to support her young mistress, and used the ruse of supplying a tea tray to the ladies, but she was literally shoved back out the door by an incensed Lady Catherine. The shouting in the room continued and Mrs. Downton, realizing that Darcy's fencing club was over three miles distant and it would be quite some time before he could return, dispatched another footman with a note to Lady Matlock explaining what was happening.

Lady Matlock,

Please excuse the liberty I am taking by writing to you but I am concerned for my mistress. Mr. Darcy is from home and Lady Catherine is here. She is with Mrs. Darcy in her sitting room and is so very angry that her voice can be heard throughout the house. When I attempted to enter the room Lady Catherine refused to permit me to do so.

Mrs. Downton

When Lady Matlock read this note she was horrified. She knew what Lady Catherine was capable of when she was angry, having been on the receiving end of her hateful rants on more than one occasion. She had been able to hold her own against the formidable lady but she knew her new niece would not be able to. She quickly ordered her carriage and was out the door of it at Darcy House before it had even come to a complete stop. Lady Catherine's carriage was still at the curb and when she entered the foyer her sister-in-law was just descending the stairs with a triumphant expression on her face.

"Lady Matlock, how fortunate that you have arrived just in time to console that hussy Darcy has taken to wife. I have managed to convince her in no uncertain terms of the sham you and my brother have been acting in pretending to accept her. Look here; here is the letter my brother sent me where he described in explicit detail the advice he sent Darcy when this travesty of a marriage was first announced. Have you seen it? He advised Darcy to pay off the expectant bride as well as her parents and if that failed gave him specific details concerning how an annulment could be obtained and that he would support him in this endeavor. Your son Richard sent Darcy a similar letter. So by all means, go up and commiserate with your new niece but don't expect her to believe ever again that she has been accepted into the Matlock family."

Lady Matlock didn't even pause to remonstrate with Lady Catherine but hurried up the stairs and into the sitting room. Catherine was sitting absolutely still on the sofa and when the Countess sat down next to her and took her hands she was dismayed to feel that they were icy cold.

"Catherine, I am so very sorry that you had to be subjected to this. I didn't even know she was in town and I'm sure Darcy didn't know either or he would never have left you to face her alone. You mustn't take anything she said to heart; you mustn't let her upset you so."

Kitty was still so overwrought at having been attacked so cruelly that she couldn't even respond. The names she had been called, the accusations that had been hurled at her, were beyond anything she had ever experienced or expected. Her eyes filled with tears but she was as yet unable to speak of what had happened. Darcy rushed into the room at that point, and when she saw him she rose from the sofa and clung to him as she began sobbing. Lady Matlock knew that it was Darcy that Catherine needed more than anyone else and she quietly left to return to her own home.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter10

When Lady Matlock returned home she related to Georgiana what had happened and her niece immediately dissolved into tears. She was terrified of her Aunt Catherine and could only imagine how Kitty must feel being subjected to her fury. Georgiana's reaction served to confirm her own fears and Lady Matlock dispatched a note to her husband whom she knew was meeting with several of his colleagues concerning a new bill that was soon to be introduced into the House of Lords. When he received the note the Earl quickly gave his excuses to the other men and left; his wife had never before sent him such a summons and he knew that only something quite dire would cause her to do so. When she informed him of what had transpired the news troubled him even more than it did his wife, for he was the one who had sent his sister the letter that had so cruelly been displayed to Catherine. Knowing his niece now as he did he was deeply concerned that this was something even _she _could not forgive and he feared that Darcy would respond to her distress even more strongly. Lady Catherine had not shared the rest of her conversation with Catherine with his wife but she had been with her quite some time and he could only begin to conger up all the other insults that she had been subjected to. He ordered that his carriage be summoned again and left the house with a grim expression on his face and murder in his eyes. Neither his wife nor Georgiana asked him where he was going; they were absolutely certain that his carriage had been directed to drive with all haste to his sister's London townhouse. She was no longer in residence, which, given her brother's state of mind, was fortunate for her. She had departed for Kent immediately after her confrontation with Darcy's wife. The Matlocks spent an anxious evening and when the morning came they were still undecided concerning what needed to be done to attempt to rectify the situation.

During this time Darcy had finally been able to calm his wife enough to hear what his aunt had said to her. He found that the thing that had upset her the most was the news that before their wedding he had been engaged to another woman and he had never even told her about it. That was easy enough for him to refute and her recent exposure to Lady Catherine was all that was necessary to convince her that once that lady's mind was made up there would be very little that could deter her. If Lady Catherine decided Darcy would marry her daughter she would move heaven and earth to make it so and absolutely no one could gainsay her. Kitty trusted her husband implicitly and if he said that the only engagement that had ever been entered into with his cousin had been in his aunt's mind she believed him. There was one other concern though that she kept coming back to and that was a curiosity about Anne's appearance. She was imagining a young woman who looked like Georgiana and nothing he could say could convince her otherwise. And then Darcy, in a moment of inspiration, told her that Anne looked exactly like a younger version of her mother and all Kitty's worries and jealousy were put to rest. They were then able to discuss other details of the confrontation and Darcy had a difficult time suppressing the rage he felt when he heard the names his wife had been called. Most of them Kitty had never heard before and so she was unaware of how insulting they were but Darcy was familiar with them and furious. One name she had been called was 'strumpet' but apparently in her anger Lady Catherine had originally called her a 'trumpet' and when Kitty related this to her husband they were both able to laugh and calm down considerably.

It was ironic, but the one thing the Matlocks were focusing on was the letter the Earl had sent to his sister, and that was something that Kitty thought so little of that she mentioned it only in passing to her husband. She already knew of the letters written by both the Earl and Richard that had been sent to Pemberley before their wedding; Darcy had told her about them at Folkestone. When Lady Matlock's letter arrived stating how much she hoped they could return for the holidays Kitty commented on how very surprised she was by how kind and accepting the entire Matlock family had been to her. She knew they must have initially been opposed to the marriage and she could certainly understand why that would be so. Darcy had then told her of the letters he had received; his motivation was to show her how very much their attitude had changed toward her. The contents of those letters pleased Kitty more than they distressed her; she had felt that as the Matlocks got to know her they had come to care for her despite their initial disapproval, and now she had proof of it.

By the time the supper hour arrived Darcy was relieved to see that Kitty had obviously ceased to be concerned by his aunt's visit. They read for a bit after the meal and then played a game of chess before they retired for the night. Catherine fell asleep immediately but Darcy was kept awake by his uncertainty concerning how he should respond to what had happened. His first impulse was to send his aunt a letter severing relations with her and explaining exactly how he felt about having his wife treated in such an infamous manner. But, knowing his aunt as he did, it would probably please her to know that she had succeeded in upsetting not just one, but two Darcys. He resolved to simply let it be for the time being but any attempts she made in the future to communicate with them would be rebuffed. By her unconscionable actions she had show him quite explicitly how little she actually cared for him and he would not give her the satisfaction of receiving a response from him.

It was shortly after midnight when Kitty had a cramp so intense that it caused her to cry out. Mrs. Downton was alerted, a footman was dispatched to fetch Dr. Rushton, and before long the house was ablaze with candlelight and most of the servants were awake and anxious to help in any way they could. Mrs. Downton and Sarah tried to convince Darcy to leave the bedchamber but he refused to budge until his wife told him she wanted him to go. Her grip on his hand was actually painful and by the time Dr. Rushton arrived Darcy was determined to stay with her regardless of who urged him to leave. Catherine was in pain and terrified that what was happening could only have one outcome. In the early hours of the morning the prognosis the doctor had given earlier in the week proved to be correct, and Kitty lost the child that she had so hopefully carried for such a short time. When she finally feel asleep just after six in the morning Dr. Rushton firmly took Darcy's arm, led him to the breakfast room, and ordered him to eat and then sleep until he returned at noon to check on Catherine.

Darcy's staff heard the doctor's directives to him and it was not long before he was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee and a steaming plate of his favorite morning foods in front of him. He felt absolutely numb and was just staring down at the plate when his cousin Richard entered the room and cheerfully bid him a good morning. Richard had been residing in his army barracks and training new infantry recruits for the last fortnight and was now on leave and on his way to Hertfordshire to visit Elizabeth Bennet. He made this trip as often as his official duties would allow and he always stopped by Darcy House before he began his journey to collect any letters or parcels that Catherine wanted transported to her family. When Darcy didn't respond to his greeting the colonel took a closer look at him and whatever he saw on his cousin's face drew him immediately to his side.

"Good God, Darcy, what has happened?"

There was a long pause as Darcy tried to find the words to soften what he had to say. He finally gave up the attempt and stated the facts bluntly. "Kitty miscarried a baby in the middle of the night."

There was silence as Richard absorbed this and attempted to hide his dismay. "I am so very, very sorry, for both you and Catherine. I didn't even know she was with child; did my parents know this? I've been on base for the last two weeks and haven't seen them but surely they would have sent me a note if they had known."

"No one knew. She was just a little under three months along and we thought it best to wait a bit."

"How is Catherine? I assume the doctor has been here."

"He just left. She was…..quite upset…and he finally had to administer laudanum to calm her. She's sleeping now and I think she must be out of any immediate danger. He never would have left otherwise."

"You need to rest also. I will leave you just as soon as I've seen you eat something and then you must go to your room to sleep. May I come for tea at around four o'clock? You both will have had time to rest by then and hopefully things will be a bit better."

Darcy nodded; he really didn't feel he could talk about this now but when he did feel like discussing it he knew his cousin was the one person he would feel comfortable confiding in.

"Darcy, I wish I had known. I wish you had contacted me; I would have come immediately. It must have been terrible for you waiting and wondering what was going on inside her room."

"I didn't have to wonder. I was in the room with her."

At this Richard understood even more than he had before what an ordeal his cousin had undergone. Darcy's face had a grey tinge and there were dark circles under his red-rimmed eyes. The colonel had had ample opportunity on the battlefield to know when a man was on the verge of collapse and his cousin had arrived at just that state. He sprang into action then and with a mixture of bullying and cajoling he got Darcy to eat as much breakfast as he could. He then led him up the stairs, shoved him back on his bed, removed his shoes, and draped a coverlet over him. By the time Richard had drawn the drapes Darcy was sound asleep. Before he left the house he spoke to Mrs. Downton to let her know that Darcy was sleeping in his room, that he himself would return at around four o'clock, and that until that time he would be with the Matlocks and would want to be informed immediately if there was any change in Catherine's condition.

It was with a heavy heart that Richard turned his horse in the direction of his parent's home. There was no possibility that he could travel to Hertfordshire now; his cousin had not been affected this deeply since his father had died five years earlier. If there was even the slightest chance that his presence could comfort Darcy at this time he would want to be nearby to support him. There was also the question of his parents; word would reach Matlock House soon of what had happened and he didn't want them informed of it by a servant. They would most likely be devastated by the news. Catherine's initial acceptance by the Matlock family had been motivated primarily to support Darcy in what they knew must be difficult circumstances but the affectionate regard they had come to feel for her was now based on her merit alone.

When he was admitted into the breakfast room at his family's home the anxious faces that greeted him made him fear that they had been informed of what had occurred.

"I can see that you already know what happened during the night. I have just come from seeing Darcy but he was so exhausted that he didn't tell me much."

It was the Earl who asked the question that the others were also wondering. "During the night? We know nothing of what happened during the night."

"Oh, I thought you knew. I thought that was why you all look so unhappy." He looked with apprehension at his mother and Georgiana and didn't want to continue but felt he must. They would hear of it soon enough and perhaps it would be easier for them if they learned of it from him. "Catherine lost a baby that she had carried for about three months. When I arrived the doctor had just left her and she was sleeping."

With this news both Georgiana and his mother began crying and the Earl was obviously shocked.

"Did Darcy mention anything to you about what had caused this? Did he seem angry?"

"Angry? Good heavens, father, you cannot possibly believe that Darcy would be angry with Catherine for this!"

"No, no, of course not. Not with Catherine. But you didn't answer my question. Did he seem at all angry?"

"No, not angry. Exhausted, sad, worried about Catherine, but not angry. Why would he be angry?"

Lord Matlock was pacing back and forth across the room and spoke to his son through clenched teeth. "Lady Catherine visited Darcy House yesterday when Darcy was from home. Mrs. Downton quickly summoned both Darcy and your mother; apparently your aunt was so incensed speaking to Catherine that the entire house could hear her. Your mother arrived just as she was leaving and was shown a letter that had been read to Catherine. Last fall your aunt had been badgering me incessantly about how it was my duty as head of this family to do something to prevent Darcy's marriage. I wrote her a letter attempting to silence her by giving an account of what I had done, what _we_ had done. I told her of my express to Darcy recommending that he bribe the Bennets in order to extricate himself from this alliance and if that wasn't successful to consider an annulment soon after their wedding. My letter to her then mentioned the fact that you had also written to him with the same advice. And _that_, Richard, is why I thought Darcy would be angry, and he certainly has every right to be so."

Richard was on his feet and began pacing the room right next to his father. "This cannot be a coincidence - Lady Catherine's visit and what that letter contained and what happened last night. This is in every way horrible; how in the world can we ever make reparation for this? But Darcy _wasn't_ angry, not in the least, but then again he was so distraught that perhaps he hasn't made the connection yet."

"I imagine he has made it by now. I must speak to him; hopefully I will be given enough time to apologize before he throws me out of the house."

"Not yet, father, not yet. He is sleeping and couldn't receive you. I told him I would be returning for tea at four o'clock. I will return here afterward to let you know how things stand."

"I will be going with you to see him. But for now I have a letter to send to Rosings. If anyone needs me I will be in my study."

The Earl's letter to his sister was brief and to the point:

Catherine,

For years I have forgiven your arrogance and your selfishness but this I cannot forgive. Catherine Darcy lost their first child just hours after you left her yesterday.

No one in the Matlock or Darcy family will recognize you from this day on, neither privately nor publically.

Edward Fitzwilliam

The Earl made arrangements to have his missive sent express and told the doorman he would be in his study and not to be disturbed by anyone except immediate family. He knew he should go to his wife to comfort her but for the first time in their marriage he felt unequal to the task. His own perturbation of mind was so acute that he knew it would only add to her distress. And so he worried, and paced, and worried some more. By the time he and his son departed for Darcy House he had mentally prepared himself for whatever his nephew might accuse him of and he was more than willing to concede that whatever it was it was justified.

Darcy joined them shortly after they were shown to the sitting room and to the surprise of both Matlocks, he seemed to be pleased to see them.

"Uncle, I had expected Richard but not you. It's kind of you to come; I assume you heard from Richard what happened. Catherine will also be pleased when I inform her of your visit."

For a few minutes neither of the men could think of anything to say; this cordial greeting was certainly not what they had expected. It was Richard who finally broke the awkward silence.

"How is Catherine now, Darcy? Has the doctor been here to check on her?"

"He just left and some of the things he spoke to us about did much to improve her spirits, and mine as well."

"Oh?"

"After he left us at dawn this morning he went home to review his medical notes. Since he began his practice he has treated six other women with similar symptoms to the ones Kitty had this past week and with the same unfortunate results. When reviewing his notes he found that what he thought he remembered of these cases was indeed true; every single one of these women was later able to give birth to healthy children. I hadn't realized that part of the reason Catherine was so upset was that she felt she could have somehow prevented this. The doctor would have none of it though; he said he has read enough medical journals to know that these things just happen and that there is nothing anyone can do to prevent it. This information, and the fact that his other patients had gone on to have healthy children, did much to raise Catherine's spirits. After he left she was able to eat a substantial breakfast, bathe, and she is now sleeping once again."

Some of the rigidity in Lord Matlock's posture seemed to dissipate when he heard this but he continued his questioning. "Dr. Rushton said this then….that there was nothing that precipitated this? That there was nothing that could have been done to prevent it? He actually said that these things just happen?"

Darcy thoughtfully regarded his uncle and his cousin. There was an uncharacteristic tension emanating from them both and their faces were pale and anxious. He was not surprised by their sympathy for what he and Catherine had endured but his instincts told him that there was another factor behind their questions that he was unaware of. His uncle in particular seemed very determined to know every detail concerning what had happened. Darcy watched their faces carefully as he explained why Dr. Rushton had been summoned twice in the past week and why the doctor had told him that there was very little possibility that Catherine could successfully carry this baby to term. There was absolute silence when he completed his explanation and he could tell that both his uncle and Richard were deep in thought. What Darcy had told them was so contrary to what they had expected to hear that at first they couldn't respond at all. Finally the Earl had to know for an absolute certainty that his sister's visit had not adversely affected Catherine.

"Did you mention your Aunt Catherine's visit to the doctor?"

"No. I never thought to do so. What does that have to do with what happened?" When neither man answered him but were obviously still concerned Darcy realized what had precipitated their anxiety. "You thought my aunt's visit was what caused this? That old harridan has much to answer for but she is innocent of this. Catherine was understandably shocked to be spoken to in such a way and I had a most unpleasant time explaining how I could have even considered marrying her when I was already engaged to my cousin Anne. Once I was able to give the lie to that little fantasy she calmed down considerably."

"Did she mention the letter I had written to Lady Catherine? Surely the contents of that letter must have upset her greatly."

"She already knew what both of you had advised me to do when you learned of our engagement. She's known for months; in fact when I told her of it her only reaction was happiness that she had been so lovingly accepted into a family that had originally been opposed to the match." Darcy then realized what was behind the anxiety and the questions that his relatives were asking. He had originally thought they were concerned about what had happened the previous night; he now saw that their distress was based on something much more serious. "Uncle, Richard, I can see now why you have questioned me so closely but what you have feared is absolutely groundless. Catherine would have lost this baby regardless of Lady Catherine's visit. And if you have imagined that the letter you wrote upset my wife, that assumption is groundless also. Kitty scarcely mentioned it to me; she was more concerned with finding out the meaning of some of the names my aunt called her."

"Are you planning on writing to your aunt? I sent her an express this morning that would undoubtedly make anything you have to say redundant. I informed her that she will no long be recognized, privately or publically, by anyone in the Matlock or Darcy family."

"Well, uncle, there certainly is nothing I could add to that so I won't even attempt it. From today forward any letters she sends here will be returned to her unopened and my servants will be instructed to never admit her to the house. If she forces her way in, as she did yesterday, they will be given orders to physically restrain her and escort her out the door and onto the front steps."

Lord Matlock and Richard departed for home soon after hearing Darcy's assurances. They knew that Darcy wanted to return to his wife in order to be there when she awoke and they were both anxious to relate to Lady Matlock and Georgiana all that they had heard. Darcy and Kitty had experienced two traumas in the past twenty four hours, Lady Catherine's visit and the loss of their first child, and the only comfort that the four inhabitants of Matlock House could derive from what had happened was the fact that the incidences were unrelated.

For the next several days Darcy seldom left Kitty's bedside. Dr. Rushton had explained that she would continue to be very weak and tire easily and that it would be weeks before she was back to the state of health that she had enjoyed before this happened. The doctor called every day and was encouraged to see that as each day passed she became stronger and her spirits seemed to improve. She had little appetite but dutifully ate as much as she could of the food that was placed before her. Darcy had a small desk moved into her room so that he could continue to conduct his estate business without leaving her. She had only one request to make of him and it was one that he was more than happy to grant her. Neither of them could bear the thought of returning to the busy social life that they had previously enjoyed and Kitty asked him if he would take her to Pemberley. She was still too ill for them to even contemplate the journey at the present time but the doctor was consulted and it was decided that they would depart as soon as he felt Kitty was strong enough to travel. Each day Georgiana and her aunt sent a bouquet of flowers from the Matlock conservatory with an affectionate message for her. The footman who brought the flowers also delivered a note to Darcy every day asking if he felt Kitty was well enough to receive them for a short visit. Darcy's response for five days was always the same, "Thank you, but not yet. Soon, I hope." After six days of waiting the ladies received the response that they had hoped for, "Yes, she is feeling better and would very much like to see you." The knocker on the front door was down but Darcy had given instructions that his aunt and sister would be calling and that they were to be admitted. When he heard voices in the hall he left Kitty's side to greet them and escort them to her bedside. He was shocked to see that Anne de Bourg was with them and was even more surprised when he learned why this was so.

When Lady Catherine returned to Rosings in the late afternoon after her confrontation with Kitty she triumphantly related to her daughter Anne all that had transpired. She had not expected a response from her daughter and there was none. Anne had long ago given up any attempt to communicate with her mother and had learned to retreat in silence from the monologues that were the norm between them. Her mother's domineering personality had overwhelmed her daughter since she was a small child and Anne had found that simply ignoring her was the most effective way of dealing with her. She had been finding it increasingly difficult to do so since her cousin's wedding; her mother had been so angry that not a day went by without her referring to it. Anne _had _wanted to marry her cousin Darcy and her motivation was simple; if she married Darcy she would be removed from her mother's smothering presence to live at Pemberley. But Anne, unlike her mother, had never seen any indication that Darcy was inclined to marry her and she harbored no bitterness toward him or his bride. Both her mother and Mr. Collins had alleged that Darcy had been trapped by an avaricious family into marrying a young girl who had neither dowry, nor connections nor family. However, even if Darcy's new wife was all the things they accused her of being, she was appalled by her mother's recitation of the viciousness that had been shown her. Afraid she would be unable to hold her tongue if she heard any more, Anne said that she felt unwell and retreated to her room.

The next afternoon Anne and her mother were having tea when an express rider arrived with Lord Matlock's letter. Anne was watching her mother as she gasped and her eyes widened in shock. When questioned about what the letter contained Lady Catherine didn't respond and Anne crossed the room to read it herself. When she read its contents her anger was such that she confronted her mother with a fury that made it evident that she was every bit her mother's daughter.

"I will be leaving here at sunrise to go to the Matlocks. If they will not have me, and that certainly would be understandable considering whose daughter I am, I will open up the London townhouse and reside there. But I will never again live under the same roof with you. What you have done is beyond despicable and I will not rest until the Matlocks and the Darcys know that I had no part of it."

She left a stunned Lady Catherine in the sitting room and proceeding up the stairs to instruct her maid and Mrs. Jenkinson to begin packing for the trip to London the following morning. Her mother twice attempted to speak to her but Anne refused to allow her admittance to her chambers. Late the next morning she arrived at Matlock House just as the ladies were preparing to visit Catherine and Anne quickly explained her alienation from her mother and purpose in coming to London. She insisted on accompanying them to see the Darcys; she was prepared to hear that Catherine would not admit her but Anne hoped that Darcy would agree to see her so that she could make her apologies to him. Lady Matlock reluctantly agreed that Anne could accompany them. She could certainly understand why Darcy would refuse to acknowledge anyone who bore the de Bourg name, but her instincts told her that Darcy was kind enough to not hold the daughter culpable for the deeds of the mother. Her intuition proved to be correct and when Georgiana and Lady Matlock ascended the stairs to visit with his wife Darcy led his cousin into his study to hear what she so anxiously wanted to say to him. She was unable to contain her tears when she assured him that she had had no prior knowledge of what her mother intended when she left for London, was deeply saddened by the loss of their child, and she had refused from that day on to live with her mother as a result of what had transpired. Darcy could have no doubt of her sincerity and felt that his wife's generous nature would readily acquit Anne of any complicity with her mother's actions. He wanted to be certain that this was so before he introduced her though, and he had Anne wait in the hall outside Kitty's room until his wife assured him that she would feel comfortable receiving her. He soon found that he was correct concerning Kitty's forgiving nature and a much relieved Anne was introduced and received with every courtesy.

The ladies refused the offer of tea and insisted on leaving a short time after they arrived. Anne had never seen Kitty before and so she could have no concept of how altered she appeared, but Georgiana and Lady Matlock were immediately aware of it and found it difficult to conceal their concern. Catherine's face was drawn and totally devoid of colour and although she was obviously happy to see them after just a short time had passed they could see that she was tiring. So they made their departure with encouraging smiles and promises to return soon to visit her again but as soon as the door was closed behind them they were unable to maintain their happy facades. Darcy was waiting to escort them to the front door, saw their solemn faces, and tried to reassure them that Kitty's health improved with each day that passed.

"I can see that now you understand why I could not permit a visit sooner than this. She was adamant that I not alarm anyone in the family; in fact, the Bennet family knows nothing about this and she has no intention of ever telling them. Dr. Rushton has warned me that her recovery will be slow and that it may take weeks before she is completely herself again. She wants to go to Pemberley and I'm convinced that would help her to heal more than anything else that we could do. We will need to wait until she is well enough to travel but every day she seems a bit stronger so we are hopeful it will not be too long before we can depart for the north."

The ladies embraced him and offered words of encouragement but as soon as they entered the carriage Georgiana and Lady Matlock broke down in tears. They had had no idea that Kitty was so ill and had been unprepared to see such telling evidence of it. Darcy also seemed thinner and there were dark circles under his eyes which they knew were evidence of his inability to sleep. When they returned home the Earl and Richard were both waiting for them and were dismayed to see their tearful faces. Richard had visited Darcy every day for the last five days and his cousin had given no indication that his wife's condition was so serious. The information that the Darcys hoped to go to Pemberley as soon as possible set the Earl to thinking. A short time later he went to the mews behind his house to consult with his head coachman. The answers he received to his questions were encouraging and before many days had passed he was able to show his nephew an illustration that Darcy's head coachman and his own had aided him in drawing. It showed the interior of Darcy's largest travelling carriage; abutting one of the doors there was a platform that spanned the area between the forward facing and rear facing seats to serve as a bed that was over five feet in length. The Earl felt, as did Darcy, that Pemberley was the ideal place for Catherine to heal and that perhaps they could depart sooner than they could have otherwise if they knew she would be able to travel in such comfort. So sure was the Earl that this was a viable option that he had even consulted a well-respected London carpenter who had assured him that it would only take several days to complete such a project and he would be willing to build it himself. As the Earl had suspected, Darcy was absolutely delighted with this plan and made arrangements for his carriage to be delivered to the carpenter's premises without delay. The exact measurements of the proposed bed were ascertained and Mrs. Downton was given the task of having a thick mattress prepared that would fit into the space. A mere three days later the carriage was returned, the mattress was completed, and Dr. Rushton inspected the completed travelling bed. He was impressed with it and thought that it was an ideal way for Kitty to travel the hundred miles to Pemberley. He agreed that she would probably be able to depart sooner than he had anticipated because he now knew that she would be able to lie down and rest any time during the journey if she felt fatigued. Kitty was so excited when she heard of it that she would not rest until Darcy wrapped her carefully in several quilts and carried her outside to view the newly outfitted carriage.

The relationship between Catherine and Darcy had taken on a new intimacy that was directly due to their shared sorrow. At first they had both attempted to hide their distress in order to spare the other any additional pain. That strategy fell apart when Darcy awoke in the middle of the night and found his wife attempting to stifle the sounds of her sobs in her pillow. He pulled her tightly into his arms and the tears that fell on his chest and soaked his nightshirt opened the way for them to finally talk about the tragedy that had befallen them. They spoke until the watery light of dawn began to shine through the curtains of their room and Kitty's tears were not the only ones that were shed. Darcy had always been a man with the means and iron determination to control his world and the people who inhabited it. He was, fortunately, the kind of man who had never abused this power and he used the money and influence he had been blessed with to benefit those around him, particularly those he cared for. What had happened the past week had left him with a stunned feeling of impotence to make right something that was so painful to his wife. He had thought that not mentioning what had happened would spare her the sorrow of being reminded of it, but during the quiet hours of the morning as he held her and they were finally able to give voice to their grief he realized there could be no barriers to the honesty of their feelings if they were to truly comfort each other.

Darcy was surprised one day to discover that he was not the only inhabitant of Darcy House who sought to bring solace to his wife. He was returning to Kitty's room after a meeting with his secretary when he encountered Mrs. Downton about to enter his wife's room carrying a tray containing some very strange objects. When he questioned her she patiently explained each of his wife's gifts and who had sent it. The hand-knit bedroom slippers were from Sarah's mother who had lately received a package of medicinal tea from Catherine after her daughter mentioned that she was suffering from a cold. The clay figurine, which vaguely resembled a horse, had been painstakingly fashioned by the two sons of one of the coachmen who had been the happy recipients of more than one plate of cookies from their mistress. The sprig of fresh cedar was to be added to one of Lady Matlock's bouquets and was from the kitchen maid who had burned her hand on a kettle. When Kitty heard of it she prepared an aloe salve from one of her plants which she herself applied to the maid's hand before carefully wrapping it in linen bandages. The butter cookies were still hot from the oven and had been sent by the cook because she knew they were her mistress's particular favorite. The paper package of ginger-nuts was from the doorman who had seen his mistress enter the house one day with a similar bag in her hands and she had told him how much she liked them. In most homes servants were encourage to be all but invisible to their masters but Mrs. Darcy knew all of their names and was invariable kind to them. Kitty had never mentioned any of these small acts of kindness to her husband. Darcy had thought he knew what pride was when he had recently escorted his pretty young bride to a social outing and saw how she was met with universal approval but that pride was nothing to what he felt when he saw the humble objects on Mrs. Downton's tray.

Darcy followed his housekeeper into the room and sat by the window where he could clearly see the delight with which each little gift and card was received by his wife. She and Mrs. Downton both laughed when they beheld the little oddly-shaped horse and Darcy realized that this was the happiest he had seen his wife in days. He was once again forcibly reminded that she was unlike any woman he had ever met. When he had realized in the fall that they must marry he felt that he would need to teach her many things to help her conform to the standards of the life he led and he had believed that she was unlikely to ever live up to his expectations. How differently things had evolved since then, for it was Catherine who had become the teacher and he himself the learner. He recalled the day that they had been standing on the banks of the Thames and he had been so focused on the panorama of London while she had seen the tiny boat that was slowly making its way out to sea. Her view of life seemed so much richer than his own and her compassion for all she met made his former complacency in his treatment of others seem paltry by comparison. He had once heard the expression that someone 'couldn't see the forest for the trees' and realized how apt it was to describe the limitations of his own perceptions. And as he watched the smile on his wife's face as she inhaled the sweet fragrance of the cedar sprig from the kitchen maid he realized that it was more than just the trees or the forest that Kitty was viewing, much more. Her unique perception of the world around her made her keenly sensitive to the minutiae of life that he had been unaware of, and it seemed to him that she was not merely seeing the trees and the forest but also the leaves on each individual tree.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

When Richard was visiting his cousin on the evening of the ladies' visit Darcy asked him when he would be seeing Elizabeth Bennet again. Darcy knew that the colonel abruptly canceled a visit to Longbourn the previous weekend and assured him that both he and Catherine were well enough for him to leave for a few days. Richard demurred, Darcy insisted, and it was finally resolved that the colonel would depart for Meryton the following morning and return the same evening. Just after daybreak the next day Richard departed and he was determined to not mention the events of the past week to the Bennets. He was quite sure that Catherine would not want them informed of it and he had no intention of telling them something that would only give them pain. He was confident that he could successfully evade the mention of it but he had not factored in the acumen of Miss Elizabeth. When he arrived the entire family greeted him in the drawing room and were eager for news of their sister and daughter. They had not heard from Kitty that week, which was unusual, but they knew from her previous letters how busy the Darcys were with their many friends and activities in London. Richard agreed that they were very much in demand in London society and the family seemed willing to accept this explanation as the reason there was no letter from her that week. But Elizabeth did not; she had been watching him carefully as he spoke and she knew that he was being evasive. He was hiding something, and she would not rest until she found out what it was. The conversation in the drawing room turned to other subjects and Elizabeth waiting impatiently until it would not be awkward to suggest a walk in the garden. When she did Richard accepted immediately; he had become fond of all the Bennets and enjoyed spending time with them but being alone with Elizabeth was what he looked forward to each time he visited Longbourn. He knew he was in love with her, had known since almost the moment he met her, and he was anxious to ascertain her feelings for him. He believed she returned his affections but perhaps not to the degree he felt for her. With these thoughts in mind her led her to a quiet corner of the garden and sat close beside her on a bench. He was just about to begin speaking when she confronted him.

"What has happened to the Darcys?"

" What? Why do you think something has happened?"

"For a spy you are a terrible liar. Tell me what has occurred."

"I am not a spy!"

"You most assuredly are but we can discuss that later. Is it my sister? Is she unwell? You must tell me what has happened."

"I cannot. I will not. You must be content with knowing that the situation has improved and all will be well soon."

Elizabeth abruptly rose from the bench and turned her steps in the direction of the house.

"Fine. Don't tell me. You must excuse me; I need to speak to my father and request the carriage. I am going to London to see for myself what you are so determined to keep from me."

Richard's long strides quickly reached her and he led her back to the bench where they had been sitting.

"I will tell you, but it must go no further, certainly not to the rest of your family. Well, Jane can be told I guess; I imagine you will need to tell her. Catherine has been quite unwell and a physician has been attending her every day. You mustn't worry; she seems much better and every day her health improves a bit more." Richard paused to take her hand in his; she was already crying and he knew that what he had to tell her next would upset her even more. "She lost a baby a week ago and she and Darcy have been quite low since that happened. That is the reason I was unable to visit you last weekend; the morning I was to depart I stopped by Darcy House and he told me of it. I haven't been able to see your sister; she isn't well enough yet to leave her bed, but Darcy assures me that every day she is improving and that the doctor shares this opinion."

Elizabeth began crying the minute she heard that Kitty was ill and when she heard the reason for it she could not contain her grief. _Propriety be damned_ was Richard's immediate thought as he drew her into his arms and held her close to his chest as she cried. His feelings when he had seen how this event had hurt his cousin were nothing compared to what he felt now at seeing Elizabeth's tears. For the first time he truly understood why his father became quite undone when his mother cried and he found himself murmuring softly to her anything he could think of to comfort her. Richard, for all his bluntness and gruff ways, was a hopeless romantic at heart although he would have called any man out who accused him of being so. One of the things that he whispered to Elizabeth as he held her was that he loved her, and as she finally calmed she drew back from his arms in order to see his face.

"You love me?"

"Of course I love you. What do you think I have been about these past several months? I assure you I have not been in the habit of traveling over twenty miles at least once every fortnight to see a lady I consider a friend. I have loved you ever since you scowled at me during the Darcy's engagement dinner when I made such a complete ass of myself. I can't believe that you were unaware of this! My entire family surmised it long ago and I have since been the object of relentless teasing from all of them. Darcy, in particular, has taken great delight in taunting me."

There was silence as she continued watching him. He slowly drew closer to her, and seeing no objection,

he kissed her. He began gently but when she shyly responded he pulled her tightly into his embrace and kissed her with all the ardor he had felt for so many months. She gradually pulled away from him; his kisses had been a pleasant diversion from her concern for her sister but she felt she must return to that subject.

"Richard, what can I do to help them? As things are now I can't even acknowledge that I know of their sorrow. Perhaps I could propose a visit to my Aunt and Uncle Gardiner? Then, as a matter of course, I could go to Darcy House to visit them."

The colonel had a hard time attending to her words because it was the first time she had ever addressed him by his name rather than his title. It took him a minute to recall that she had asked him a question and was patiently awaiting a response from him.

"It seems to me that the best thing you can give them now is your silence. Perhaps you could send her a long newsy letter; I have seen how much letters from home cheer her. I know that they are intending to leave for Pemberley as soon as the doctor considers her strong enough to travel. They will most likely visit Longbourn on their way north and you will see her then. She would be unhappy if she knew that I have told you of this and I'm sure the last thing you want to do now is to cause her any more pain than she has already suffered."

Elizabeth nodded her acceptance of this advice and because her head rested on his shoulder he was aware of it. As much as he felt compassion for her sorrow he experienced only a twinge of guilt when his thoughts returned to the other subject that had been discussed between them. She now knew of his love for her but she had given no indication of what she felt for him. Granted, his arm was around her shoulders and she seemed quite comfortable nestled so close beside him. But still he hesitated; with Elizabeth so worried about her sister it seemed selfish to attempt to direct her thoughts to his own concerns.

Mary called to them both then to advise them that the luncheon was ready and they reluctantly entered the house. Richard made every attempt to be an attentive dining companion but he was finding it difficult to do so. He would be leaving shortly after the meal to return to London before darkness set in because he had promised Darcy that he would see him that evening. When the meal concluded Mr. Bennet requested his presence in the library. He was not prepared for the angry confrontation that commenced the moment the door was closed behind them.

"What is wrong with my daughter?"

Richard's first thought was that Mr. Bennet was speaking of Catherine and that he had surmised, as Elizabeth had, that he was being evasive when the family had questioned him about the Darcys. "Your daughter? What is it that you suspect, sir?"

At this reply Mr. Bennet exploded in rage. "Do you think I am blind? Do you think you can take liberties with my daughter and not be held accountable for them? If I hadn't immediately noticed when she entered the room that she had been crying I would have had ample evidence of it from the stains on the front of your uniform. How dare you! If you even _attempt _to deny your ungentlemanly conduct I will throw you out of this house even sooner than I had planned to."

Richard then knew that there was nothing else he could do but make a full confession of what had caused Elizabeth's tears. When he finished the explanation Mr. Bennet rose from his chair and went to gaze out of a window in his library. He was obviously struggling to compose himself and Richard turned away to allow him some privacy. When he was finally able to speak his voice was low and tremulous.

"And is she being properly cared for? You say that her health is improving; is everything possible being done for her? I don't give a damn that she didn't want us to know of this; I will be leaving for London in the next hour if you tell me that she needs more care than she is receiving."

"On that score you need have no concerns, sir. Darcy has not left her side for more than an hour since this happened and a doctor is attending her every day."

Mr. Bennet seemed relieved by this information and the men were silent for quite some time. There were other concerns that Elizabeth's father had voiced earlier and Richard knew that he would be required to make an accounting of his behavior. He decided to approach the subject himself to avoid more accusations and another angry outburst.

"I love your daughter Elizabeth, Mr. Bennet, and had hoped to request her hand in marriage today, or at least the right to court her. But, as you now know, we ended up discussing another matter altogether and I had no opportunity to propose to her. And these stains on the front of my uniform are indeed what you suspect they are; I did hold her while she cried. And if that makes me less than a gentleman then so be it. I couldn't see her tears and not act as I did. I apologize to you for it, but I must tell you that I can't really regret it."

"Hmmph. And has Elizabeth given you any indication of her feelings for you?"

"No, she hasn't, and I must confess that I find it very difficult to understand your daughter sometimes."

At this Mr. Bennet chuckled. "I can well believe it. She will lead you a merry chase if you do marry but I imagine you know that by now. But how can you support her? As a mere soldier I can't see how you could even contemplate marriage at this point."

Richard was incensed. "I am hardly a _mere soldier,_ sir!" He then became aware of the twinkle in Mr. Bennet's eyes and knew that he had purposely been baited and so he calmed down. "I have been considering for the past few months resigning my commission if Miss Elizabeth would accept me. Part of the Matlock holdings includes a small estate in northern Derbyshire that has been set aside for me. I also have been able to save a modest amount during my ten years in service. Have no fear; as Mrs. Fitzwilliam your daughter would be well provided for."

"And what of your parents? An Earl and his Countess could hardly consider the dowerless daughter of a country gentleman qualified to enter their family."

"Are you forgetting that both my parents met her at the dinner party given for the Darcys? You know your daughter; can you have any doubt that she charmed them both?"

"I must tell you, young man, that when we entered this room I had every intention of throttling you and forbidding you to ever see my daughter again. But now, well now, I am of the opinion that if you do succeed in winning her hand I would have no qualms in giving you my blessing. If you remain here I will return with Elizabeth and perhaps you could use this opportunity to tell her some of the things that you have just related to me."

When Mr. Bennet returned with his daughter he informed them that he would be taking a short walk in Longbourn's gardens and would return in ten minutes. Richard wasted no time and before Elizabeth had even comfortably settled in a chair he was on his knees before her and asking for her hand. She was able to assure him that it was her fondest wish to be his wife and that the affection he felt for her was returned with equal fervor. He then told her that he would resign his commission in the next week and of the estate that he was entitled to as a second son. They were both incredibly happy and Richard could not be content until he lifted her out of the chair and began kissing her. They were both so agreeably engaged in this activity that it took a disapproving cough from Mr. Bennet for them to realize that they were no longer alone. When they entered the sitting room and informed the rest of the family that they were engaged Richard could have no doubt that all the Bennets were delighted with the news. He wanted to stay longer to bask in Elizabeth's happy smiles and the obvious approval of her family but he knew Darcy would be uneasy if he did not keep his promise to visit him that evening. So he gave his reluctant farewells and travelled back to London contemplating not only his own happiness but what joy this news would give both his own family and the Darcy family.

When Darcy left Kitty's side to join his cousin in the sitting room he was greeted with a wide smile that Richard could not suppress.

"Well, I can see that you have had an enjoyable trip to Meryton. Might I hazard a guess as to why you are grinning like a besotted fool?"

"You may guess all you like cousin but I insist on seeing Catherine and sharing this news with both of you at the same time."

"I will not permit it. Absolutely not. She is still not well enough to leave her bedchamber."

"Oh for God's sake, Darcy, you are such a hopeless prig sometimes! Do you think the mere sight of your wife in her nightclothes will cause me to be overcome with lust and throw myself on her?"

"Richard!"

"Oh calm down, Darcy, calm down. I apologize if I have offended your delicate sensibilities. But I must insist on seeing her; I want to see her face when I tell her my news. Everyone in my family has been able to do something for her this past week…flowers, notes, visits from the ladies, and even my stodgy old father with his carriage-bed invention. But I haven't been able to do anything for her, and you must know how happy this will make her."

Darcy reluctantly agreed and went up to his wife's room to prepare her for a visit from his cousin. Richard almost laughed aloud when he entered the room; the drapes were pulled shut so that the room was in semi-darkness and Catherine was carefully wrapped in blankets that covered her all the way to her chin. She was sitting propped up on pillows against the headboard of her bed and her eyes were wide with curiosity. When he told her that her sister Elizabeth had accepted his hand in marriage she was absolutely delighted. But it was when he told her that he would be resigning his commission and that they would be residing on an estate less than half a day's carriage ride from Pemberley she could find no words to adequately express her joy. Darcy had not known that his cousin was considering forsaking his army career and he immediately realized how important it would be for Kitty to be living so near one of her sisters. He had known that Richard was to some day inherit Rose Manor, had known that Richard had been pursuing Elizabeth for some months, but couldn't envision how Richard could even consider marriage and continue being a colonel in the army. For himself, he rejoiced in the fact that the man who had been like a brother to him all his life would now in fact truly _be _his brother.

Richard stayed with them but a short time because he knew there were others who would be equally excited to hear what he had to say. The reaction from his parents was even more enthusiastic than he had hoped it would be and Georgiana could not contain her delight. Anne had never met Elizabeth but she had had an opportunity to visit with Catherine several times during the past week and could only believe that any sister of hers would undoubtedly be charming. The Earl proposed a toast to celebrate such a momentous event and as Richard looked around and saw the smiles on the faces of those he held most dear he could not help but contrast this evening with the one when his brother Edmund had announced his engagement. There could not have been a more marked difference between the two events and the knowledge of it made his present happiness even sweeter. When the family decided to retire for the night he was surprised when his father requested that he remain behind for a few minutes but even more surprised when he heard what it was his father wanted to tell him. It had been no secret in the Matlock family that Lady Matlock's dowry, twenty five thousand pounds at the time of their wedding, had never been touched because the Matlock estate and investments were sufficient for all their needs. Richard was astonished when his father told him that the dowry, which had accumulated interest since before he was born, was now over forty thousand pounds and his parents had altered the ownership of it from their names to his at the time of his brother Edmund's marriage. Richard's first thought was of Elizabeth; every man likes to feel that the home he is providing for his bride is more comfortable than the childhood one he would take her from, and he now had no doubt that this would be so. He thanked his father profusely and when he retired for the night no man could have been happier.

At Darcy House Richard's news had brought colour to Kitty's face and the smiles that Darcy had been sorely missing. She slept through the night for the first time in a fortnight and in the morning insisted that she be permitted to leave her bed and sit in an armchair by the window in her room and look out over the garden. It was spring and early days yet for the profusion of flowers that would soon fill it but the bright sun and budding leaves on the trees were sufficient to please her. Up until the time of Richard's visit she had not much cared how soon she would recover but now it was of utmost importance to her. She knew that with her recovery they could begin their journey to Pemberley and the journey would include a visit to Longbourn. She had written a quick note to her sister that morning expressing her joy but she needed to see Elizabeth and offer her congratulations in person. Beginning that day she ate her meals with a new enthusiasm and left her bed as often as she was able to walk about her bedroom and the adjacent sitting room. When she first began to do this Darcy was right at her side ready to support her if she faltered but after a few days as her strength returned he saw it was unnecessary. By the end of the week she was finally able to be dressed in a morning gown and descend the stairs to the sitting room on the second floor. Dr. Rushton was encouraged by her steady progress and plans were made to leave for Pemberley in two day's time.

The morning before their departure Lady Matlock was finally able to persuade Darcy to permit the entire family to visit Catherine for a short time. He agreed that they could all come to tea but if he saw that his wife was tiring he would insist that they leave immediately. Kitty was stronger, there was no doubt of that, but not completely recovered and he would not allow anything to endanger their departure on the following morning. He knew he had made the right decision to permit the visit when he saw how happy it made his wife to see the family that had so readily adopted her as one of their own. One of the things that she was eager to do was to thank the Earl for his design for their carriage. She knew that it was the major factor that convinced Dr. Rushton to permit them to depart for Pemberley earlier than he would otherwise have allowed and she was deeply grateful for his kindness. The talk then turned to Richard's upcoming wedding and they learned that early August had been decided upon for the nuptials to take place. This was wonderful news for Kitty; surely she would be completely recovered by then and she and Darcy could attend the wedding. Georgiana spoke to her of her anticipation of having not just one but two Bennet sisters in the family and how much she looked forward to having them both for sisters. Anne said very little, but enough to assure Catherine that she hoped in the future that they could continue the friendship they had begun in the past few weeks. True to her word, Lady Matlock rose to depart shortly after they had finished their tea and the Matlock family bade them an affectionate farewell with promises to see them in August when they were all together again for Richard's wedding.

Early the next morning found the Darcys in their carriage and departing London at daybreak. Catherine's face was bright with happiness at the anticipation of seeing her family again for the first time in almost six months and Darcy was anxious to leave the city behind and acquaint his wife with Pemberley. The coachman had been given explicit instructions to drive slowly to avoid jostling the coach and consequently the trip, which would have been of only two hours duration under normal circumstances, took almost the entire morning. After an hour of traveling Darcy became aware that Kitty was tiring; removing her bonnet, cape and shoes, he carefully helped her to lie down and covered her with a quilt. Within minutes she was curled up on her side and sleeping peacefully on the bed that the Earl had designed. The carriage came to a halt about a mile from Meryton and Sarah, who had been traveling with Darcy's valet and their luggage in a second coach, helped put Kitty to rights and fashioned her hair once again into a neat chignon. She looked rested, there was colour in her cheeks, and both she and Darcy were confident that no one in her family would think there was anything amiss. They were greeted with great enthusiasm by the entire family, as well as Bingley, and spent the time before the luncheon hearing local news and also being apprised of one thing that gave them particular pleasure. Bingley had requested, and been granted, Jane's hand in marriage and she and Elizabeth were now planning a double wedding. The luncheon was equally pleasant and Mr. Bennet was relieved to see how well his daughter looked. When they returned to the drawing room Darcy could easily perceive that his wife, although happy and animated by the conversations around her, was becoming fatigued. Soon they were on their way north again and for the three days that the journey took Kitty frequently made use of the Earl's carriage bed. On the evening of their third day of travel they finally passed through the gates of Pemberley. Catherine had been so excited by the prospect of seeing her future home that, despite all Darcy's urgings, she had been unable to rest and by the time the carriage drew up to the entrance portico Darcy could see that she was at the point of collapse. The four front steps of Pemberley were lined with servants eager to be introduced to their new mistress but they quickly saw that the introductions would have to wait until another day. The instant Catherine exited the carriage Darcy lifted her in his arms and carried her through the house and up the stairs to the mistress's chambers. Sarah followed closely behind and within a short time Catherine was in bed and sound asleep. Many of the members of Darcy's staff had been in contact with the London staff and knew of the events of the past month and how very ill their mistress had been. Darcy returned downstairs after he saw that Kitty was comfortable and was able to assure Mrs. Reynolds that his wife was well but very fatigued from the journey and that she should relate this to the rest of the staff if they were concerned.

The next day Kitty was closeted with Mrs. Reynolds and carefully learning all she could about the workings of the vast estate and what was expected of her as its mistress. Darcy was pleased to see it and was quite busy himself with the never-ending pile of paperwork that he faced as well as accompanying his steward on horseback to several areas of his estate that required his particular attention. He made a point of always being home to take lunch with Catherine and insisted that she retire to her room to rest a bit before tea time. She inevitably protested that she was not in the least fatigued, and just as inevitably, was fast asleep within minutes after he escorted her to her room. She grew stronger every day though, and the naps which were originally of two or even three hours duration comprised less and less time as the days passed. After several weeks Darcy finally agreed that she and Mrs. Reynolds could begin visiting the cottages on the estate. There were seventeen in all and Catherine knew that these visits would be much more important than the ones she had made at Longbourn. She knew that despite her youth the Pemberley tenants would undoubtedly have anxiety about meeting the woman who could have such a profound effect on their futures and that of their families. The visits went well, very well, and by the time Catherine had been introduced to each of the inhabitants of the cottages the general consensus was that she was young, much younger than any of them had expected, but that she seemed to be kind and genuinely concerned about their welfare. Mr. Darcy was revered by all of them; he was, perhaps, a bit stern and distant, but he consistently dealt fairly with them and settled their disputes in a judicious manner. They only dealt with his steward, however, and would never even have considered approaching him directly with their concerns. His pretty young wife seemed to be much more approachable though, and everyone Catherine met felt that Mr. Darcy had made a wise decision in his choice of a wife.

As they had in London, the Darcys attended the local Anglican Church each Sunday. The church was in Lambton, five miles from Pemberley, and from their carriage window Kitty could see three or four families from the estate walking along the road to also attend the service. She looked across the carriage at her husband as a plan formed in her mind. She decided that her best chance of having him agree to it would be to follow her mother's pre-wedding advice and wait for a time when he would be particularly vulnerable to anything she requested of him. That very evening, just as they were falling asleep, she made her request. Darcy moaned loudly and replied in exaggerated petulance.

"Your mother's advice again, eh? Am I to live the rest of my life expecting tender words from you at such a time and instead being badgered to do your bidding?"

Kitty just giggled and he could feel her head nod as it rested on his chest.

"Once again your mother is correct with her blasted advice. I'll speak to the carpenters tomorrow."

True to his word, the next morning Darcy went to the woodworking shop on his estate and greatly surprised his carpenters by giving them precise instructions concerning a project that he wanted them to undertake. Pemberley had a number of large farm carts that were used during the harvest. Darcy requested that they construct removable benches to fit along them lengthwise and to inform the employees of the estate that they would be available every Sunday to transport to Lambton anyone who wished to attend the church service. The carpenters would know better than he how many people would wish to do this and they were to outfit as many carts as necessary. When Darcy returned to the house and informed Kitty of what he had done he was amply rewarded with an embrace and many kisses. However, she confessed that she had been thinking about it and she had thought of one more little something, just a very little something, that this plan required to be absolutely perfect. She and Darcy always seemed to return from the service hungry and the cook knew this and had a plentiful brunch ready for them. Perhaps the tenants would be equally hungry? There was a large covered area just off the servant's dining hall where the harvest celebration was held each year. Wouldn't it be nice if the carts pulled up to this area each Sunday when the employees returned and hot tea and rolls and biscuits were waiting for them? Not anything elaborate, just a small indication from their master that he had heeded the advice he heard each Sunday during the service to love one's brother. Darcy smiled wryly at his wife; she was still holding him closely in her arms, and as she knew only too well, it would be impossible for him to deny her anything when she smiled so sweetly at him. Kitty decided to personally explain to the cook what had been decided in the hopes that she would not mind the extra work that would be involved for her and her kitchen staff. What Kitty did not know yet was that the cook had several relatives who resided in the estate cottages and she was delighted to be of assistance to her mistress in this matter. So happy was she to comply with it that the original menu was soon expanded to include scones and clotted cream, seed cake, and fresh fruit when it was available. And so a tradition began at Pemberley that those who desired to attend the Sunday services in Lambton would be transported there and back and after the service anyone who wished to could have tea and refreshments at the great house. At Catherine's insistence, after she and Darcy finished their meal in the dining room they went out to greet the tenants. He was initially reluctant to do this but with his wife by his side he could easily see how much it meant to them that their master and mistress would take the time to converse with them.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The next alteration to Pemberley's staid routine was more difficult for Catherine to implement. What had begun simply enough soon became much more, to Kitty's delight and Darcy's consternation. One day when she was visiting one of the tenants she found a number of the neighbouring women filling the small interior of the cottage with sheets and quilts draped over every surface and the ladies busily sewing. One of the women's nieces was to be married in two months time and the ladies were preparing her trousseau. The sewing was frequently interrupted by the numerous children who were playing and running about the room. Kitty immediately had an idea but waited until she could confer with Mrs. Reynolds before she made an offer to the ladies. Adjoining Pemberley's cavernous kitchen the servant's dining hall had two long trestle tables that were over 30 feet long. Mrs. Reynolds listened to Kitty's suggestion and agreed that the room would be ideal for the sewing that the women were doing and she also approved of Catherine's idea to have several of the housemaids tend to the children at the far end of the hall while their mothers were sewing. Plans were soon made for the trousseau sewing to be an all-day event and the cook would be advised to prepare a luncheon for the women and their children. Kitty hurried back to the cottage and made her offer which was first greeted with surprise and then grateful acceptance. She learned that this was not the only cottage that was filled with similar enterprises and hastened to extent the invitation to all the tenant's wives and their children. The next morning there were over twenty women and their excited children filling the dining hall. The housemaids kept the children at one end of the hall and soon had them playing numerous games that they remembered from their own childhoods and their mothers were able to spread their sewing out on the long tables. Kitty was delighted to join in and was soon hemming a pillowcase and happily listening to the conversations around her. The women were understandably shy at first; it wasn't every day that the mistress of a great estate condescended to join her tenants, but Catherine was so genuinely interested in their concerns that soon the hall was echoing with the women's talk and the sounds of happy children playing.

When the women gathered up their children and prepared to leave Kitty knew that she wanted to spend more days in such an enjoyable manner. She also knew that there was a never-ending pile of items to be sewn or mended in the estate cottages. So she offered the great hall to the women for a similar meeting every Tuesday, an offer that was gratefully accepted. She mentioned to Darcy that some of the estate women had used the dining hall to sew a trousseau for one of the lady's nieces but didn't mention that she had plans to use the hall for similar meeting once a week. It never even occurred to her that he would object but she soon found that he objected quite strenuously.

On the following Tuesday Darcy entered the family's dining room expecting to have lunch with his wife. He had had a difficult morning working on estate matters and was not in the best of moods. When she did not appear and he was served his luncheon he realized that she was not expected and went in search of her. He headed to Mrs. Reynold's office and as he neared it he heard the sounds of many voices happily talking and children laughing. He followed the sounds to the door of the servant's dining hall and was astonished to see his wife laughing and conversing with the wives of his tenants. She looked quite at home with them and Darcy was seriously displeased. He found Mrs. Reynolds in her office and was further angered when he learned that this was to be an ongoing event with the women meeting every Tuesday to sew at Pemberley. By the time the tenants left and Kitty joined her husband in their sitting room he had worked himself into an absolute fury. When he spoke to her his voice was deceptively calm.

"When you did not appear for lunch I followed the sound of voices and was quite surprised by what I saw in the servant's dining room. I was even more surprised when Mrs. Reynolds informed me that you were planning on continuing to meet there with the tenant's wives every Tuesday. Would you care to tell me why you would commit to such a thing without even consulting me?"

His voice was low and even but Catherine had seen this behavior before and she knew he was furious with her. She knew she would need to be very careful in her responses.

"I did mention it to you last week."

"You most certainly did not! The impression you gave was that a few women would be using the trestle tables to complete a trousseau. You deliberately hid the scope of what you were undertaking because you knew I would never approve such a thing."

"Oh, but William, it is such a delightful idea, for me as well as the women and their children. I was able to hear about their concerns and understand the lives they lead and how I can help to make them better. I felt so at home with them; I miss my own family and neighbours from Meryton so much and it was wonderful for me to feel that I am part of a community again."

"Yes, I imagine you did enjoy yourself. In Meryton you were permitted to associate with a number of people I certainly would not approve of, but then a Longbourn is not a Pemberley, and a Miss Kitty Bennet is not a Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy. Once again I am dismayed by your complete ignorance of what is expected of you as my wife. These meeting will cease immediately and from now on I want you to conduct yourself as the mistress of Pemberley with the dignity that you seem to have forgotten."

Upon hearing his harsh words Catherine's face had flushed a bright red and her eyes had filled with tears. At the sight of them Darcy hesitated; his resolve to end the meetings did not falter but he couldn't bear to see his wife so unhappy.

"Sweetheart, please don't cry. I know you've been lonely and now that the spring planting is well underway I'll be able to spend more time with you. What I meant to say, but I fear I said it very poorly, is that there are other women you should be spending time with. These women have positions similar to yours and they can show you the way to be a proper mistress. In fact, one of them is coming to dinner this evening with her husband. The Burston's estate is not far from ours and she is quite young and could possibly be a good friend to you. We've only met her once, but she is the daughter of an Earl and I have no doubt that from her you could learn many things about what is expected of you now in terms of your behavior and your relationship with our tenants."

Kitty simply nodded and left the room so that she could cry in the privacy of her own room. She was upset that Darcy would forbid her to do something she had so much enjoyed but what hurt her the most was that her husband, once again, had reminded her in no uncertain terms that he was disappointed in her as his wife. Even more painful was his suggestion that she should emulate the behavior of another woman. It was not long, however, before your distress turned to anger. Why did he continue to behave in this manner; why did he have to resort to using such bitter words whenever he was angry? Would this be a pattern all their married life? He always regretted his words later; he was always quite repentant and assured her that it was only the anger of the moment that had made him says things that he never really meant. But he _had_ said them, he _had_ purposely meant to hurt her, and her forgiveness this time would not be given as readily as it had in the past.

After Catherine left the room Darcy was also having unpleasant thoughts. He had risen from his chair and was standing looking out one of the windows in their sitting room. He had been too hasty and he knew it was not the fact that his wife wanted to do this as much as the fact that she had not told him of it that had prompted his unkind outburst. His mother had often engaged in similar enterprises; her generosity to Pemberley's tenants was spoken of even years after her death. He would apologize to Catherine before their guests arrived; he would assure her that he approved of her plans and that they could continue.

It had taken Catherine longer than usual to prepare for the upcoming evening but as she entered the drawing room where Darcy was waiting for her one look at his shocked countenance was all that she needed to know that her efforts had been worthwhile. Kitty had originally demurred when she had seen Madame LaFleur's illustration for the dress she was now wearing but Lady Matlock had insisted. It was a deep blue colour of silk that was tightly fitted in horizontally draped rows across her breasts, waist and hips before widening slightly to fall in graceful folds to the floor. For the first time Kitty wore some of the Darcy jewels, a necklace that was a double row of rubies and diamonds, ruby earrings, and a string of small rubies was carefully woven through the curls on top of her head. Darcy stopped halfway across the room as he went to greet her and his eyes widened in surprise. He had never seen his wife dressed like this; the tightness of the silk folds accentuated her tiny waist and every soft curve of her body.

"You look very lovely, Catherine, very lovely indeed."

Catherine raised her chin to look at him with narrowed eyes as she coolly replied. "I thought it best that if I am to be compared to another woman I should display as ostentatiously as possible the one area where I know I will not disappoint. Regardless of how _she_ is dressed, I am confident that I am attired in the best that money can buy."

Darcy swallowed audibly. "Now, my dear, you have misunderstood me regarding this. I never meant to imply that you would be compared to anyone; that was never my intent."

Darcy was becoming quite uneasy. He could see how she could interpret his earlier words this way and the tension between them seemed like a palpable force in the room. Before he could even begin to form the words to attempt to placate his obviously furious wife they could hear through the open windows of the drawing room the arrival of the Burston's carriage.

It was not many minutes after their guests had entered the drawing room that Darcy realized he had made a serious error in judgment. The one time they had briefly met Mrs. Burston after church services she had seemed to be a nice young woman. His first indication that he had been wrong about her concerned her gown. He had thought his wife's apparel provocative but it was nothing compared to what Mrs. Burston was wearing. The bodice of her gown was cut so low that when she bent over to retrieve her tea cup from a table in front of her Darcy had a panicked moment when he feared she would actually spill out of it. Her voice was unnaturally loud, her opinions given in a decided fashion that rivaled even his Aunt Catherine's, and worst of all was her affectation that there was an intimacy between the two couples that she had every anticipation would continue in the future. Since their arrival from London the Darcys had hosted only three dinners, one with the Lambton rector and his wife, and the others with older neighbours who had been friends of his parents. The Burstons were the first couple their own age that they had entertained and it was obvious that Mrs. Burston was preening herself on this distinction and that she had proudly boasted of it to anyone who would listen.

Darcy carefully schooled his features to conceal his distaste for her nonstop chatter and was confident that neither husband nor wife could detect anything amiss in his demeanor. Catherine was another matter altogether though, and twice her gaze met his and he could see the sides of her mouth curl up slightly. As he caught her eye he felt he could read her thoughts. _And this is the woman you want me to model myself after? Are you sure? _It would have been funny, absurd even, if he had not still been concerned about what she had said earlier and the manner in which she had spoken to him. As difficult as this evening was proving to be he was quite sure it was nothing compared to what he would encounter when his guests departed and he and his wife were alone.

They entered the dining room shortly after their guests arrived and the giggling and chatter did not abate but became focused on a subject that began innocently enough. The gossip that was rampant in London had obviously also reached Lambton and Mrs. Burston began questioning Catherine concerning the obscurity of Meryton, the fact that she had never even visited London, had never attended a finishing school, had no relations of any note, and had no dowry. Darcy was becoming more and more incensed as the questions went from simple curiosity to outright rudeness but Catherine was more than willing to answer each question. Every word that came out of the lady's mouth was further evidence to her of how mistaken her arrogant husband had been in his advice to her. She looked at the head of the table and as she saw his visage continue to darken with each ill-judged remark she felt more than vindicated. The evening had gone from one she had dreaded to a very pleasurable one indeed and she had a difficult time repressing her smiles.

The last bite of dessert was still being chewed when Darcy rose from his seat to take Burston to his study for the obligatory post-dinner glass of brandy. This evening could not end soon enough for him and he wanted no delays in forwarding its completion. Burston had barely swallowed the last of his brandy when Darcy suggested they join the ladies and headed for the study door. When he entered the drawing room door his gaze immediately went to his wife and he could see that in their absence something the other woman had said had upset her. He didn't have long to wait before Mrs. Burston, with a triumphant air, related to him what had transpired during the gentlemen's absence.

"Mr. Darcy, I'm sure you will be pleased to know that your wife has agreed to join a group of the younger wives in the neighborhood who meet each week on Tuesday for luncheon. We have the most delightful time although I must confess," and here she giggled and attempted to look coyly at him, "as the afternoon wears on the tea we had earlier been drinking is replaced by sherry and the conversations become quite shocking. I feel I must warn you, our husbands and their little oddities and peccadilloes are a frequent topic of conversation, as are our beaux."

If at all possible, Darcy's posture became even more rigid. "Your beaux? I was under the impression that most of these ladies are married."

This question brought on a bout of more giggling. "Oh, of course! But we all have beaux. Nothing terribly naughty, mind you, just someone who sends us the occasion bouquet of flowers, or love poems, or attempts to steal us away to some secluded corner during a ball. It's all great fun."

"You needn't trouble yourself attempting to find a beau for Mrs. Darcy. She already has one."

"Oh, how deliciously shocking! And who is this lucky man?"

"Me."

Even the decidedly blunted sensibilities of Mrs. Burston could not miss the dangerous glint in Darcy's eyes or the coldness of his voice. She decided to turn the conversation about the luncheons in another direction entirely, one she was confident would meet with his approval. It was unfortunate for her that her next words closely resembled the ones he had spoken earlier in the day and this made him even more aware of how pompous he had sounded.

"Well then, there are certainly other matters of a more serious nature that we also discuss. Your lovely wife will need much guidance in the coming months as she adjusts to her new position and we are just the ones to advise her. I am more than willing to take her under my wing, and despite her less than auspicious background, show her all that a proper lady must know to be a worthy mistress of Pemberley. And, of course, when your dear sister Georgiana comes in June I will be happy to instruct her also."

Darcy was so affronted by this condescending speech that at first he could not even trust himself to respond. When he did he addressed his wife rather than Mrs. Burston.

"My dear, have you forgotten that you are already engaged each Tuesday and therefore you will be unable to attend these luncheons with the other ladies? The commitment you have made to Pemberley's tenants is much too important for you to relinquish it now."

Kitty had to quickly look down and attempt to hide the smile that she could not suppress. "Oh dear me, how could I have forgotten? I am so very sorry Mrs. Rushton, but Mr. Darcy is correct, this is an obligation that I simply cannot forgo. I spend each Tuesday with the tenant's wives sewing in the servant's dining hall."

The shriek that Mrs. Burston uttered at this information was so piercing that even the two footmen who were standing outside the door flinched. "What? Tenant's wives? You are associating with tenant's wives? Good heavens! Mr. Darcy, I can see by your expression that you are displeased. This is exactly what one could expect from your new wife, given her unfortunate background, and all the more reason why she must attend our luncheons. As I'm sure you are aware, but apparently your wife is not, proper behavior most definitely does not involve associating with one's servants!"

Darcy had reached a point where he was beyond angry and he made no effort to disguise the disdain in his voice. "Mrs. Burston, I most definitely am displeased, but not with my wife. She is following in the footsteps of my mother with her concern for our tenants and I certainly hope you have not the temerity to include _her_ in your insults. Mrs. Darcy most assuredly will not be attending these luncheons and neither will my sister. And concerning your assertion that you and the other ladies could instruct my wife on proper behavior, I have no doubt at all that she, and not you, is the example to follow for women who denigrate their servants and delight in discussing their beaux."

Mrs. Burston retreated in shocked silence but her husband, rather belatedly, decided it was time to enter into the conversation and attempt to salvage the situation.

"Now I say, old chap, no need to get your feathers ruffled, no need for that at all. My wife was just being friendly, friendly you know, and no harm done, not a bit. And the beaux thing, just a little joke, just a little fun pastime for the ladies, nothing serious there. All the husbands are aware of it; it's all in good fun you know. All in good fun. Why, I was even hoping that I could be Mrs. Darcy's beau; she's very lovely, very tempting indeed. It would just be a little flirtation, nothing serious Darcy, nothing but a little flattery and things of that nature."

Darcy realized he had two choices at this point; he could either shove his fist down Burston's throat or rid himself of their presence in all haste. He abruptly stood up. "This has been a delightful evening but I can see that we are all tiring. Excuse me while I call for your carriage."

When they were finally able to rid themselves of the Burstons Darcy turned to his wife but she was already walking back to the drawing room. As he drew nearer to her he was dismayed to see her shoulders shaking and his heart sank. She must be crying already and he knew he would have a very unpleasant time of it trying to set things right between them. He silently followed her and dreaded what was to come as he attempted to atone for his foolish words; this evening could not possibly have shown him more clearly how very foolish they were indeed. When the door was closed and he could finally face her he saw that she was not crying after all, but laughing. In fact she began to laugh so hard that tears ran down her face and he soon found himself joining in and laughing uncontrollably. It really had been a most ludicrous evening. Darcy took Kitty's hand, sat down in one of the chairs, and pulled her onto his lap.

"Now, if you can defer your gloating for just a bit there are a few things that need to be discussed between us. I never meant to compare you to another woman, never. Furthermore, that woman is not to enter our door ever again and I absolutely forbid you to call on her. The doormen will be instructed that they will find themselves unemployed if they allow her admittance to Pemberley. She is to be told that you are not at home, or you are indisposed, or you are spending time with your beau. But she will never darken our door again."

Kitty laughed softly and snuggled closer to him. "I was so disappointed when you told Mr. Burston that he could not be my beau. He is just the kind of man I have secretly admired for years."

"Hmmmph. That man is lucky he left here with all of his teeth. And that brings up another subject I want to discuss with you. You are never, ever, under any circumstances, to wear that gown again. I want it in the dustbin the minute that you remove it this evening. Or, better yet, when we go upstairs you are to dismiss Sarah and _I_ will remove it. That way I can be certain it will be properly disposed of."

"My dear, if you had any idea how much this gown cost I doubt you would be so hasty."

"I don't care if it cost half my yearly income. Throw it away."

Catherine gave him a sly smile. "But I thought you liked it. When I first entered the drawing room it seemed to make quite an impression on you."

"Well, yes it did, and that is exactly my point. I don't want any other man to have an impression even remotely similar to the one I had."

Kitty began laughing again and it was not long before he joined her. Her voice was serious though when she drew back to look directly at him as she posed a question.

"Do you ever look at other women that way, the way you are afraid men look at me?"

There was a long pause before Darcy responded. "Do you really have so little respect for my intelligence that you think I would answer that? No husband, unless he is a half-wit or deep in his cups, would give an honest answer to that question."

"Then you do, you do look at other women!"

"My dear, I am a married man, not a dead one. Of course I look at other women. And any man who tells his wife otherwise is lying."

"I can see the truth in that, for you seemed to be looking quite intently at another woman this very evening. I couldn't help but notice that mine was not the only gown that made an impression on you. You seemed to be inordinately fascinated by the one that Mrs. Burston wore."

"I admit I was fascinated. When she bent over to reach for her cup I was waiting for her to fall out of it and burn herself on the hot tea."

This brought on another bout of laughing for both of them. They retired to their room soon after, and with a mixture of tenderness and passion Darcy was able to most convincingly assure his wife that he was heartily sorry for his intemperate words and that any attempt to ever compare her to another woman was destined to end in failure. Catherine used a bit of similar persuasion herself and was able to convince him that the seductive blue dress should not be sacrificed to the dustbin but could be saved for very special occasions, occasions when the two of them would be dining alone.

And so, after a rocky start, the Tuesday sewing meetings began in Pemberley's servant's hall and continued for many years. Much to the delight of the proprietor of the dry goods store in Lambton, Mrs. Darcy became a frequent patron. She bought out his entire stock of needles and thread and almost every week placed special orders that he hastened to fill. One week it was fabric for curtains and every cottage on the estate soon displayed new ones, another week it was colourful cotton material so that all the young girls could have new pinafores, then many bright colours of calico for warm patchwork quilts for the winter, and many skeins of different kinds of wool so that the women who preferred knitting to sewing could be well supplied. The leftover scraps from each project were carefully put aside and soon there were brightly coloured hand-braided rugs on the floors of almost every cottage. Through the spring and summer the children were invariably outside hiking and playing games and the sounds of their laughter could easily be heard in the dining hall as the women worked. Tuesday became a day that all the women eagerly anticipated. It was the one day of the week that they could enjoy the presence of their friends and neighbours and know that their children were busy and well cared for.

In late June Georgiana was escorted to Pemberley by her cousin Richard and she soon began to look forward to Tuesdays almost as much as Kitty did. When the women were busy sewing the talk inevitably turned to their own concerns and Kitty and Georgiana listened carefully and formulated plans for what they could do to help. They heard who was expecting a baby, and the next week the women at one end of the long trestle tables would spend the day sewing the soft fabrics and ribbons Catherine had purchased and they were able to complete entire layettes in one morning. When mention was made of one of the women using a saucepan to warm the water for her tea because she had forgotten to remove a dry tea kettle from her fire the next day one of the Pemberley maids arrived at her door with a shiny new kettle purchased from the store in Lambton. A woman spoke of an ill-fitting window in her kitchen that allowed rainwater to seep down the wall and within hours one of Pemberley's handymen was there to replace it with one that fit properly. One day in early summer Catherine opened a large parcel filled with over twenty different patterned fabrics cut in three yard sections and had each of the women select what fabric they liked the most in order to sew light summer dresses for themselves. She forbade them to use the fabric for any other purpose and within two weeks all the women were happily sporting new gowns. Pemberley's head carpenter's daughter had been blind since contracting a childhood illness and it was Georgiana who asked the two women who were known far and wide as the best knitters to teach her how to knit. By early fall she had mastered that skill to such an extent that soon her shawls were displayed in one of the shop windows in Lambton and almost every week at least one of them sold. The carpenter's appreciation was such that Kitty had no scruples requesting something that she wanted for the winter months when the children would need to be inside because of the inclement weather. She asked him to use whatever small wood scraps he had in his woodworking shop to form different shaped blocks that the children could use as building blocks. He was delighted to comply and it was not long before the entire area on the far side of the dining hall was filled with hundred of carved and sanded blocks.

Tuesdays were not the only days that Catherine and Georgiana were busy. They called on all the ladies in the neighbourhood and several times a week the three Darcys were either attending supper parties with their neighbours or hosting ones themselves. Kitty was pleased to find that not all the young wives in the area were like Mrs. Burston and soon she and her sister were friends with a number of them. They visited the homes of their tenants several times a week and the news of any illness was of particular concern for them. Containers of warm soup, cheese, bread and sliced meat were quickly dispatched to any household where someone was ill and Pemberley's cook had never before presided over such a constant flurry of activity in the kitchen. Late Saturdays and early Sundays saw her preparing the brunch for when the Lambton churchgoers arrived and on Tuesdays the kitchen was a hectic place as luncheon was prepared for the women and children of the estate workers. She frequently had requests to prepare a picnic basket for the Darcys on the days when the weather was pleasant and Georgiana and Kitty were able to persuade Darcy to take a respite from the estate business that occupied so much of his time. For all three Darcys it was a busy time filled with enjoyable activities and they could not remember a happier summer.


	13. Chapter 13

Conclusion

In August the Darcys traveled to Hertfordshire to attend the Bingley and Fitzwilliam weddings. They arrived at Netherfield in the early afternoon on the day before the weddings to be greeted by an anxious and supercilious Caroline Bingley. That lady was most assuredly not prone to criticize her own behavior, but the dearth of invitations during the previous spring and summer had made her very aware that her only hope of even the most superficial social recognition rested on her acquaintance with the Darcys. Her fawning proved tiresome for both Catherine and Darcy but much easier for them to deal with than the snide behavior that they had been subjected to early in their marriage. In the future each time the couple met with her she was greeted with a definite coolness and her wish to once again be permitted to visit Pemberley was never granted. Bingley and Jane were frequent guests at the Darcy estate but care was taken by both the Bingleys and the Darcys to ensure that she was never included in the invitations. The brief popularity that she had enjoyed in London as the sister of Darcy's best friend came to an abrupt end, and three years later she was forced to choose between spinsterhood and marriage to a moderately successful tradesman whose warehouses were in Cheapside, although thankfully, his home was not. It was many years before she was finally able to accept the fact that Darcy would never have married her even if he had not met Catherine and that the aspirations that she had once entertained of being the Mistress of Pemberley had always been doomed to failure.

Darcy, Catherine, and Georgiana were greeted with true affection by Lord Matlock, the Countess and Anne. They had frequently corresponded since the Darcys had departed London in March but no amount of letters could equal the pleasure the six of them enjoyed when they were in each others' presence again. Lady Matlock was pleased to see that Catherine had recovered completely, Lord Matlock basked in the praise that he was given regarding how much his carriage-bed had been utilized, and Anne, in her own quiet way, happily received particular attention from both Catherine and her cousin Darcy. Viscount Edmund was also present, as was his wife. Lady Marianne had been spoken to quite firmly by the Countess regarding what was expected of her behavior for the wedding festivities. Under normal circumstances she would have ignored Lady Matlock's admonitions as she had in the past, but she and Edmund had recently found themselves in a rather embarrassing monetary position and were hoping for significant financial assistance from his parents. Lord Matlock had been applied to for help and had left them with the impression that he was giving the situation every consideration and would let them know in the near future what steps he felt should be taken. After consulting with his wife the Earl had determined to offer them no assistance whatsoever, but Lord and Lady Matlock wisely decided to delay informing their son of this until after the wedding celebrations had taken place. So both Miss Bingley and Lady Marianne were on their best behavior and the Darcys breathed a sigh of relief. They still faced one more formidable hurdle though; at Elizabeth's insistence Lady Catherine had been invited to the wedding, and to the surprise and dismay of everyone involved, she had accepted the invitation.

On the eve of the wedding there was an elaborate dinner and ball given at Netherfield Hall. Miss Bingley, fully cognizant that this would be her last opportunity to play hostess for her brother, had ensured that both be extravagant affairs. She had numerous flower arrangements delivered from a prestigious florist in London, the meal was comprised of seven courses, and the music at the ball was played by a seven piece string ensemble that was in high demand in the capitol. Her brother was a bit taken aback when the bills began to arrive for the wedding supper but the evening was such a success that he soon forgot the cost of it. Both Edmund, best man for his brother Richard, and Darcy, who was to stand up for Bingley, gave numerous toasts, some heart-felt and some humourous, and there was a pervasive atmosphere of bonhomie throughout the meal. The ball was equally successful. The three Bennet sisters opened the ball with their fiancés or husband and it was matter of some debate among the onlookers which couple was the most handsome. To some of those in attendance, though, it was not the attractiveness of the couples that drew their eyes but the obvious happiness of all six dancers.

On the next day the actual wedding ceremony was a simple affair but the contentment of the two couples as they stood at the altar and recited their vows was easily perceived by all who were present. Seated in one of the pews in the mid-section of the church was a sight that shocked not a few of the attendants as they entered for the ceremony; Lady Catherine was seated next to Catherine Darcy. Darcy and Kitty's carriage had been one of the first to arrive at the church, and Darcy and Edmund were greeting the newcomers until they were needed to attend Bingley and Richard at the altar. Catherine had been standing at Darcy's side when his Aunt de Bourgh's carriage arrived and when she exited the coach the cane she was using was not sufficient to prevent her from stumbling as she stepped from the stairs to the ground. Kitty turned to Darcy and said "Go to her" and he quickly reached his aunt's side and took her free arm to steady her. He was shocked by her appearance and all his former anger dissipated when he realized how altered she was since last he had seen her. Her bearing, which had always been erect and proud, had undergone a marked change, and her face had aged ten years. Her steps were slow and halting as he slowly led her into the church and he was not surprised when his wife seated herself next to his aunt. When the service concluded Kitty attempted to support her as Darcy had but she simply wasn't strong enough. Lord Matlock perceived this and he was the one to carefully escort his sister from the church. He too had been shocked to see the alteration in her, and like Darcy, saw her transformation for exactly what it was, regret and self-reproach for her unconscionable actions.

The wedding breakfast at Longbourn was a noisy affair, made all the more so by Darcy's contribution to the festivities of a case of champagne that he had managed to obtain, for a quite considerable amount of money, despite the current embargo of all things French in England. Darcy seldom over-imbibed in alcohol, but the pleasure of seeing his two dearest friends now become his brothers was simply too great a temptation. His wife was seated at his side and was wearing the gown that she had worn to the Matlock's party – the gown with the borders of Sweet Williams. He could never remember an occasion when he had felt happier and there was another factor that greatly added to his feeling of contentment. He had been taken unawares when Catherine had informed him of her pregnancy the previous winter and had determined to be much more attentive to anything that would indicate that she was increasing again. Each day that passed added further confirmation to his suspicions that they would be parents in the early spring of the next year. The past several nights when he held and caressed her he could detect a slight swelling of her abdomen and no further confirmation was necessary. He had waited for her to speak to him of it but he could well understand why she was hesitant to do so. But he could wait no longer; the time now was passed when things had gone so very wrong before and he was anxious to share with her all that he was feeling and all that he knew she must be feeling also.

After the breakfast was over many of the guests proceeded outside to wander the paths in Longbourn's gardens and Darcy seemed quite determined in his quest for privacy as he led Kitty to one of the more secluded areas. He then proceeded to kiss her with a passion that had previously been displayed only in their own rooms. Kitty had a pretty good idea that she had the champagne to thank for his uncharacteristic lack of restraint but she didn't care, and her response was all that he could wish for. Despite his inebriated state Darcy soon realized that it was perhaps a good idea to limit how far he would allow his ardor for his wife to manifest itself considering the near proximity of other people. He reluctantly ceased what he was doing and drew her closely in his arms so that her head rested on his chest.

Catherine hadn't realized that she had sighed but Darcy heard it and leaned over to speak softly to her.

"What is it? Surely you're not unhappy about the weddings that have taken place today?"

"No, not at all. In fact, I envy them."

"Envy them! Whatever for?"

"I looked at the contentment on the faces of Richard and Bingley as they stood at the altar and then I remember what _your_ face looked like on the day we were married."

Darcy tightened his hold on her and replied to her comment in a manner that was more forthcoming than he usually was. He had been remembering that day also, remembering how difficult it had been for him to smile and hide the apprehension he felt in his heart. He also recalled the paleness and anxiety on the face of his bride and her comment in the carriage on their way to London that she was adrift on the sea with no compass and no chart. He needed to reassure her, especially now when she carried his child; he needed to say some things to convince her that regardless of how he had felt _then, _times were vastly different now and he believed that their tiny craft had come safely to a protected port.

"Kitty, you need to know that if it was our wedding day today my face as I stood at that altar would look very different than it did then. My smile would rival any that Richard or Bingley wore this morning. I have no regrets, none at all. I've been thinking that last fall, when I was visiting Bingley and he began courting Jane, I would have had an opportunity to be in your company quite often. And as I got to know you, as I looked at your pretty face and heard you speak of the things that are dear to you, I could not have helped being drawn to you. Please don't remember my face as it was on that day; rather think of how I look late at night when I hold you close to me and I cannot hide the joy that you have brought into my life. And now, knowing as I do that your body carries the child who is the result of the love we have shared, there simply are no words to express how dear you are to me, and how much I have come to love you."

Darcy was gazing at her intensely when he said these words and the expression on her face caused him to quickly steer them deeper into the gardens so that she could compose herself. When she was finally able to speak he found that the love he had acknowledged for her was returned most fervently and that his assumptions concerning her being with child were indeed correct. It was many minutes before either of them were calm enough to join the others in Longbourn's gardens and when they did return they saw that Anne and her mother had removed themselves to a quiet area and were deep in conversation. Lord Matlock was watching them also and when it seemed that they had reached some kind of resolution he joined them. Lady Catherine said very little, but whatever she did say was sufficient to bring about a reconciliation with both her brother and her daughter. When Darcy and Kitty once again joined the wedding guests the Earl informed Darcy that his aunt had a few words to say to them and that he hoped they would attend her. When they did there could be no doubt of the sincerity of her apology. Both Darcys were earnest in their declarations of forgiveness and their hopes that all the parties involved could put the past behind them and begin again. Anne returned to Rosings with her mother early the next morning and dedicated herself to doing all she could to return her mother to her former robust health. It took several months to improve her physical well-being and Lady Catherine never again resumed the dictatorial manner which had characterized her previous behavior. She encouraged her daughter to take an active role in running the estate and Rosings was firmly under the control of Anne when her mother died five years later. Those five years had been the happiest that either Anne or her mother had ever known and Lord and Lady Matlock, Richard and Elizabeth Fitzwilliam and the Darcys were frequent guests at Rosings. During those years they often encountered one of the younger sons of the family whose estate bordered Rosings, a Mr. David Benham. He had known Anne all of his life and had heard, as had everyone in the vicinity, that she was destined to marry her cousin someday. When word reached him that Darcy had married elsewhere he began to hope that the woman who had so enchanted him when she was a young girl would look favorably upon his suit. As it happened, Anne _did_ look favorably upon his suit, and her mother, who until recently would have never even considered such a man for her daughter, favored him also. He was not a handsome man, but he was a kindly one, and so painfully shy that after two years of having him stare longingly over his tea cup at her Anne took matters into her own hands. It was Anne who finally proposed to him and when her one year of mourning for her mother had passed they were quietly wed. Anne bore him two daughters, and because the entail to Rosings did not exclude female heirs, the future of the estate was secure. Anne's health improved significantly after her marriage and she spent the remainder of her years at Rosings as a happy wife and affectionate mother to her two children.

When the Darcys departed from Longbourn to begin the journey back to Pemberley Kitty's sisters Mary and Lydia were also in the carriage. Georgiana had spent most of her time during the wedding festivities with Catherine's two unwed sisters, and having very few friends her own age, earnestly entreated her brother to allow them to come to Pemberley for a visit. Darcy readily agreed and the return journey north was a much livelier affair than the trip south when it had been only the three of them. Darcy found himself quite the odd man out but was content to just sit back and enjoy the non-stop chatter and laughter of the ladies. The two women he loved most in the world, his wife and Georgiana, were glowing with happiness and that in itself was sufficient to please him. He was surprised that Mr. and Mrs. Bennet so readily agreed to have their two remaining daughters leave their home on the same day that the two Bennet brides were also leaving, but there was something else going on there, some undercurrent that he could feel in the very air. They seemed to want to have the house to themselves and it was not many months before the reason for this was known to all five of the Bennet daughters. At the time of the weddings the senior Bennets had strongly suspected that Mrs. Bennet was with child. She was now in her late thirties, a time that the inherent dangers of childbirth were even more pronounced, and the Bennets decided to keep this very unexpected news to themselves until the crucial first months had passed. Having their two remaining daughters absent from Longbourn at this time was an ideal solution to maintaining their secret and they were delighted to accept Darcy's offer.

Mary and Lydia remained at Pemberley for the months before Christmas but decided to return home for the holidays because their parents steadfastly refused to come to Pemberley to celebrate with them there. Once the girls returned to Longbourn they immediately became aware of the situation and Mr. Bennet sent an express to his other three daughters explaining that the birth of Kitty's first child would soon be followed by the birth of a sibling for the five sisters. The Bennet daughters were shocked by this news but their surprise turned to joy when Thomas Bennet jr. arrived safely in early April and the entail that had been a source of concern for so many years was broken. Young Thomas Bennet was perhaps a bit more spoiled than most children but he grew into a thoughtful man who was more than competent to become the heir to the Longbourn estate. His Uncle Bingley had purchased Netherfield and spent many hours schooling him on the management of his lands and his responsibilities to his tenants. His Uncles Darcy and Fitzwilliam came faithfully every summer to spend time with him and reinforce whatever lessons he had learned from Bingley. When Thomas's father died he was fifteen years old and at the insistence of his uncles he continued his schooling while Longbourn was under the care of a steward that had been carefully chosen by his three uncles. When he was twenty one and had graduated with honours from both Eton and Oxford he began to manage the estate in a manner that had the full approval of his watchful uncles. Longbourn thrived under his care and the woman that he chose for his wife was a kind daughter to his mother and a dedicated squire's wife to the estate.

The week following the wedding found Edmund Fitzwilliam in conference with his father regarding his dire financial situation. He and Lady Marianne had managed, in just over one year of marriage, to amass over fourteen thousand pounds in debt and were facing eviction from their home and repossession of the majority of their possessions. Lord Matlock gave his son advice that seemed feasible enough and he agreed to accompany Edmund when he made his petition. No one except the Matlocks were aware that Lady Marianne's much vaulted thirty thousand pound dowry had not been paid. At the time of their wedding Duke Matterton had released only ten thousand pounds to the newlyweds with a promise that the rest of the funds would be forthcoming in the near future. It had never been paid and Lord Matlock's suggestion to his son was to demand from the Duke the remaining twenty thousand pounds, which would not only free them from debt but also leave an excess of six thousand pounds for future expenditures. When they were admitted to the massive home where the Duke lived they could immediately see that all was not well. The inside of the mansion was in serious disrepair; there were dark spots on the walls where art work had hung in the past, no carpets on the floors, and what remained of the furniture was dusty and tattered. The Duke himself, despite the early hour, was quite obviously in his cups, and when Edmund made his request that the terms of the marriage articles be adhered to concerning his wife's dowry, he began to laugh. That very week the country seat of the Matterton's, which had been in his family for over three hundred years, was to go on the auction block to pay off his gambling debts in order to avoid bankruptcy. He had mortgaged the property to such an extent that his assessors feared that even the sale of his estate would not be sufficient to cover all his debts. He hoped to be able to retain the house in London, but even that was questionable.

It was with a heavy heart that Edmund returned to his home and related this news to his wife. She demanded that he return immediately to Matlock House and discuss with his father the solution that she had arrived at while he had been gone. Edmund's wife, and nearly everyone in London, was aware that Lady Matlock's dowry had never been touched by the senior Matlocks and she assumed that it was part of the assets that Edmund would inherit when Lord Matlock died. She was adamant that her husband request that this portion of what they were to eventually inherit be released to them at the present time. And so, not even an hour after they had parted company, Lord Matlock was once again sequestered with his son and Edmund explained his wife's solution to their current dilemma. The Earl produced the marriage articles from his safe and showed him that Lady Matlock's dowry was not included in the list of assets that the Viscount was to inherit. He then informed his son that due to the large dowry Lady Marianne was to bring to the marriage the entire amount had been turned over to his brother Richard. When Edmund once again returned to his home and related this news to his wife she erupted with such vehement anger that he found it necessary to leave the house and escape to the refuge of his parent's home.

He and his father were once again closeted, this time for several hours, and Edmund was ultimately willing to accept the solution that his father had devised. Lord Matlock had submitted the bills that Edmund had given him to a noted London estate manager who specialized in handling the affairs of noblemen who found themselves in financial difficulty. Every establishment that was owed money had been consulted and an amount of money was determined upon if the unpaid-for items were returned. The list of articles included two carriages, six horses, over four thousand pounds worth of jewelry, all their furniture including art work, and every piece of plate and silverware. Edmund would be permitted to retain his horse and his father would pay his fees for his club, because these had been his son's before his marriage. Lord Matlock also pledged to pay any back wages that were owed to the staff, remit to the owner of their home all overdue rent monies, and fully compensate both the greengrocer and the butcher. These expenses would be deducted from Edmund's monthly allowance until such a time as the debt had been cleared and Edmund's current allowance of five hundred pounds a month would be immediately reduced to three hundred pounds. The Viscount and his wife would, of course, be in need of lodgings, and the recommendation was made that they approach Lady Marianne's father concerning living with him; his home was certainly large enough to accommodate them and it would allow them to maintain an address in Mayfair.

When Lady Marianne was acquainted with the details of what her husband and his father had agreed upon she went into a rage that made her previous behavior pale by comparison. They had no other recourse though, and the day they removed to her father's house and carts pulled up to their previous residence for the repossession of their belongings the London gossips went into a veritable frenzy. Lady Marianne was far beyond humiliated and was loud and persistent in her assertions that the entire debacle came about as a result of the miserliness of the senior Matlocks. When the Countess was informed by several of her friends what was being said she let it be known that her daughter-in-law's dowry had never been paid in full and _that_ was the real reason her son and his wife were in difficulties. The London gossips were delighted to hear this and it was not long before everyone knew of it. Lady Marianne received an astounding amount of callers at her father's home the first several weeks after their disgrace but once the ladies had procured from her every bit of information they could the visits abruptly ended. Soon not only morning calls but also invitations from their supposed friends went from a mere trickle to nonexistent, and the lady's ultimate humiliation came when she was told in several establishments that any purchases she desired to buy would need to be paid for in advance. She found herself without friends or any form of entertainment and spent the majority of her time envisioning all those she would ostracize when the current Lord finally died and she at last became Countess Matlock. Edmund weathered the storm much better than his wife and his friends were steadfast in their support of him. His home had become a battleground and he absented himself from it as much as possible by spending time at his club or with his friends or parents.

The revenge that Lady Marianne had so anticipated was never realized. In his fortieth year Edmund contracted pneumonia and died before anyone had fully comprehended the seriousness of his condition. Lord and Lady Matlock were devastated by his loss and spent the remainder of their lives at Rose Manor with Richard and Elizabeth or having them as their guests at either Fitzwilliam Hall in Derbyshire or Matlock House in London. Their main consolation was their seven grandchildren and the constant care and affection that was accorded them both by their son and his wife. With his father's death Richard became the Earl of Matlock and in time he came to be admired and respected as his father had been before him. Lady Elizabeth Matlock was soon a consummate hostess and she and Richard were much sought-after members of London's most elite society. The fury with which Lady Marianne read in the local papers of their prominence in London society did not prevent her from sending a constant barrage of requests for funds to the Matlocks. Edmund's allowance had been discontinued with his death and she had no source of income. She and her father were forced to rely on the small pittance that he received from an annuity in order to survive. Her father died penniless and she found herself homeless when the London house was confiscated to satisfy his debts. It was only then that the Matlocks, at Elizabeth's insistence, responded to her increasingly desperate pleas and she was installed in a small suite of rooms in an establishment that had formerly belonged to a member of the aristocracy who, ironically, had lost his estate due to gambling debts. She lived there for the remainder of her days, a bitter woman who blamed all the trials of her current situation on all those who bore the names of Matlock or Darcy.

Bennet Fitzwilliam Darcy was born in the early hours of an afternoon in mid-March. At the time of his birth Lord and Lady Matlock had been installed at Pemberley for several weeks and were firmly of the

opinion that Darcy suffered more during the birth of his son than his wife did. He spent the early part of her labour pacing the halls outside the mistress chamber and cursing the architect of Pemberley for creating a structure with such thick plaster walls that they were virtually soundproof. He then went outside to pace in the flower gardens directly below Catherine's second floor window and was relieved to find that the indistinct sound of voices from her chamber could reach him there. Richard and he were pacing side by side when they could hear a marked difference in the timbre of the voices from Catherine's room; they could not distinguish particular words but both the midwife's and the physician's voices reflected an urgency that could easily be detected. Then the air was rent by the unmistakable sound of a newborn's cry and both men ceased their pacing as wide grins overtook their faces. When Darcy was finally permitted into Catherine's room he thought that nothing could ever equal his joy when he saw, as he had imagined so many times in the past months, his child peacefully sleeping on the breast of his wife.

Darcy's anxious pacing in the flower gardens below his wife's window was to be repeated twice more in the three years to come. Two years after the birth of Bennet his wife gave birth to twin sons, Richard and Geoffrey, and the following year their fourth son, James, was born. In the years to come Pemberley was to echo with the sound of children's laughter and the patter of small feet running up and down the stairs and from room to room. Tours of Pemberley for the general public were abruptly halted when one of the boys slid down the long curved staircase in the front foyer and almost collided with one of the tourists who were viewing the house. There was not a hall or room in the entire mansion that did not require frequent re-plastering or a fresh coat of paint, the marble floors were invariably scuffed or covered with mud, and the impressive ancient oak doors received many permanent dents. The second floor of one entire wing was converted first to a nursery and then to a suite of schoolrooms for the boys where they were instructed by the numerous tutors that Darcy had hired. Their summers were spent much the same way their father had spent his and the happy chaos that had come to symbolize their home was multiplied many times over when their Fitzwilliam, Bingley, de Bourgh and Bennet cousins came with their parents for their annual visit. Lord and Lady Matlock were always included in the party and were frequently applied to by one or more of the children to intervene with their irate fathers when they had been caught in some mischief. Grandma and Grandpa Matlock, for so they were called by all seventeen of the cousins, were delighted to perform this task for the children; since the death of Edmund they knew no greater pleasure than spending time with their extended family, especially the children. Their intervention was often unnecessary though when it involved a prank by the Darcy or Fitzwilliam children; Richard and Darcy found it difficult to refrain from laughing when their children were caught doing exactly the same things that they had done as boys.

Both the farm area and the sheep pastures were increased during this time and Darcy was a very busy man. However, his motivation for all that he did for the estate was greatly heightened by his awareness that his efforts were for his dearly loved sons and his pride in his family and contentment with his life knew no bounds. Catherine was as affectionate a mother and wife as she was a mistress of the estate and as time went on Darcy felt he could never esteem her enough or love her more than he did. His sister Georgiana thrived in her role as aunt to the four boys and was resigned to the fact that Pemberley would most likely be her permanent home. Life holds its little ironies though and Georgiana, who had learned from watching the marriage of her brother and Catherine that society's estimation of what constituted a desirable alliance was meaningless, had resolved early on that if ever she did marry it would most assuredly not be to one of the aristocracy. When Robert and Elizabeth Townsend came for one of their frequent visits, however, Robert's cousin, a future Duke, accompanied them, and he and Georgiana both felt an immediate attraction for each other. Before the year was out Darcy was escorting his sister down the aisle in Pemberley's chapel and even he felt that if any man was worthy to be the husband of his beloved sister the Marquis was indeed that man.

Catherine could be heard frequently grumbling, albeit with a twinkle in her eye, that she had been nothing more than a brood hen as far as her sons were concerned. All four of them were almost exact replicas of their father with their unusual height, dark curly hair, swarthy complexions and brown eyes. However, seven years after James was born she became a mother for the last time to Anna, a blue eyed, golden-haired little girl who became the apple of her father's eye and a much doted upon sister to her four older brothers. Eighteen years later when Anna made her début and was presented at an elaborate ball at Darcy House many a potential dance partner was discouraged from approaching her by a steely gaze from her father or one of the brothers who kept a vigilant watch by her side. She had become a very pretty young woman and as she grew from childhood to young adulthood Darcy was delighted to see that his daughter became the very image of her mother at the time that they were wed.

With the passage of the years the sounds of happy children in the stately rooms of Pemberley diminished as the Darcy children left home to attend school and then to steward their own estates when they married. Grandchildren followed soon after though, and Darcy and Catherine embraced their role as grandparents as enthusiastically as they had their role as parents. As they aged the passionate love that they had felt for each other in the early years of their marriage was replaced by an enduring affection that in many ways was even more profound than their initial attraction. So deep was their commitment to each other that when Darcy died in his late sixties his wife followed him soon after. For many years at the foot of their monuments in the Pemberley cemetery bouquets of flowers were placed by their children, their grandchildren, and their grateful tenants.

Long years after those who knew Darcy and Catherine personally had gone from Pemberley there was an embroidered sampler above the fireplace in the family's main sitting room that had a permanent place there. The sampler had faded a bit as time passed, but still obvious on it was the carefully embroidered image of Pemberley in the centre and the signature 'Catherine' in the bottom right corner. The border consisted of an intertwining wreath of Sweet Williams and carefully woven through the flowers were the names William, Bennet, Richard, Geoffrey, James and Anna. Future generations of Darcys would relate the story of their Darcy ancestors with increasing inaccuracy, but the one detail that was never omitted about William and Catherine was the abiding love they had for each other and the joyous home that Pemberley became in the years that they lived there.

Finis


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